We have so many Christmas memories from those years (oh so
long ago!) when our children were small.
There was the year that our son Fred went missing and we found him
quietly trying to wiggle out from under the Christmas tree, which he had pulled
down on top of himself. I believe that was the same year we also found
him sitting beside the tree smiling in awe at the crushed Christmas ball in his
slightly bloody little hands.
We used to drive around looking at Christmas lights with our
daughter Susan standing in the seat between us (before that was illegal) and pointing
excitedly while squealing, “Yookee Yights!” (Look at the lights.)
Now a grown woman, Susan’s wonderment over
Christmas decorations is intact. We were
in the car together on Christmas afternoon when she spied a bunch of Holiday
inflatables which had deflated and fallen all over somebody’s lawn. None of us saw what Susan saw in them. She said, “Look! It’s an Inflatables
Massacre!” Perhaps a little macabre,
but imaginative!
No comments:
Post a Comment