All through the house
Dec. 25th, 2007 01:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jack_babalonIt's never the same as when you're a kid.
When I was living on East 4th Street in Brooklyn, I remember this one magical Christmas Eve. I must've been what? six or seven tops. Sent off to bed early by the folks. It was one of those charged restless nights, tossing and turning with giddy anticipation, laying in bed unable to sleep, my brain racing a hundred miles a minute calculating i'd find under the tree, waiting for a morning that couldn't arrive soon enough.
Finally I dozed off, for how long I can't say, but I woke from my bed hearing my parents talking to someone down the hall and in the living room. I couldn't make out the other voice, it was just a muffled bass through the walls. I peeled back my Super Friends sheets (the ones with the JLA on one side of the pillow case and the Legion of Doom on the other), crept out of bed, tip toed through the dark in my pajamas, approached my door and pressed an ear to it's surface. My parents were standing in hallway that led to the outside of the apartment.
Mom said "Goodnight"
Dad said "We'll see you later"
The Stranger burst out in laughter - "Ho, ho, ho!"
My parents laughed. The door closed.
I ran back to bed, dived under the covers and clutched my Pooh-Bear Pirate.
He was real. Santa Clause. And I had heard him laughing with my parents.
I laid in bed as perfectly still as I could. I strained my ears for the sound of Reindeer powered sleigh take off but just got ambient radiator noise and the occasional snatch of festive cheer from the folks. Final the lights all clicked out as they went to bed. From under my door I could see the flashing reds, blues, greens and yellows spilling under the door in a muted strobe.
It was one of the longest nights of my life (the other two being the night before I left for basic training and the night I lost my virginity to Dawn Summerall who initiated me into the virtues of vodka to commerarate the passing of that particular rite). Occasionally i'd drift in and out of unconsciousness only to wake with a start hoping the sun had finally risen. It didn't of course.
Here and there, on the way to the bathroom i'd sneak a peek past the kitchen, into the living room where our ceiling high pine tree (that Dad carried all the way on the F Train with from work two weeks earlier) and see the sea of gift wrapped boxes that were all around it now. I risked a reconnaissance mission into the kitchen to confirm my suspicions: The little plate of cookies were now crumbs. Seeing this I bolted back into my room. Laid there another hour, squirming, shifting and readjusting my pillow a hundred times.
Finally I could stand no more. I made my way to the living room. Our cat Janessarie was on guard duty. He looked up from his perch on the arm of the couch, shot me this 'Don't do it kid' look he always gave me and as always I ignored him.
I told myself just one present. That's all. Just one. I ripped a tiny corner off one of the bigger boxes with my name on it. Immediately recognized it and all sense of caution washed off me as I tore into the package.
It was the toy that year: A Sho-Gun Warrior sized ALIEN doll in all its Geiger glory, complete with snapping jaws and arms that when pulled out swung back in to grip you in its exoskeletoned hands. I imagined it battling my Godzilla doll (that by then I had already lost the flying fist too and had yanked out his plastic strip of "fire breath" that flicked out when you pulled his neck fin lever). I imagined it hanging from the frame of my door by it's thick prehensil tail scaring the crap out of my parents, suicide squads of Star Wars figures attacking it enmasse.
How could I stop there.
One by one I ripped through the mysteries of Santa's blessings. A legion of die cast metal and space age plastic micronauts, Star Wars playsets, a toy lightsaber (red) that was hollowed out so it made that broken vacuum cleaner sound, a series of books I discarded immediately, a ROM space knight (though that may have been another year- it all jumbles - Sasquatches with removable chests revealing robot machinery, Skretch Armstrongs with rasberry jelly limbs and plastic fantasy armies complete with orcs, catapults, demons, gargoyles, cone hat wizards and an assortment of medieval knights all lifted straight out of the D&D manuals) and best of all were these strange Japanese monster movie dolls that my folks scored exclusively in New York's Chinatown - lobster clawed monsters, tusk for hands cyclopean monsters, a three headed Ghidra and the King of Monsters himself, Godzilla).
I didn't know how it happened. I hadn't been especially "nice" that year. My grades certainly put me on the "Naughty" list, math alone should've seen to that... but somehow not only did I get the toys I wanted... I got the toys I didn't even know I wanted!
I felt redeemed. I felt as if I was given this wonderful second chance.
Of course I spent that chance playing a little too loud with my swag and ended up waking up the folks.
They weren't so much as pissed with my three in the morning rummaging as disappointed. Mom especially. I could see it on her face. But I figured they were all from Santa and that they should've known what he gave me since he was here, as I explained to them.
They just smiled, nodded, sat down and started opening the presents with me.
Years later I would learn that Santa was a friend of the families named "Crazy John". It was he who gave the deceptive "HO-ho-ho" that kept me believing in Santa years after I should've stopped.
Still, looking back, it might not have been my best Christmas but it was certainly the most special... that year I heard Santa and the long night of anxiety and pleasant surprises that followed.
Anyway... I just remembered that.
Merry Christmas everyone... and to all a good night;)
When I was living on East 4th Street in Brooklyn, I remember this one magical Christmas Eve. I must've been what? six or seven tops. Sent off to bed early by the folks. It was one of those charged restless nights, tossing and turning with giddy anticipation, laying in bed unable to sleep, my brain racing a hundred miles a minute calculating i'd find under the tree, waiting for a morning that couldn't arrive soon enough.
Finally I dozed off, for how long I can't say, but I woke from my bed hearing my parents talking to someone down the hall and in the living room. I couldn't make out the other voice, it was just a muffled bass through the walls. I peeled back my Super Friends sheets (the ones with the JLA on one side of the pillow case and the Legion of Doom on the other), crept out of bed, tip toed through the dark in my pajamas, approached my door and pressed an ear to it's surface. My parents were standing in hallway that led to the outside of the apartment.
Mom said "Goodnight"
Dad said "We'll see you later"
The Stranger burst out in laughter - "Ho, ho, ho!"
My parents laughed. The door closed.
I ran back to bed, dived under the covers and clutched my Pooh-Bear Pirate.
He was real. Santa Clause. And I had heard him laughing with my parents.
I laid in bed as perfectly still as I could. I strained my ears for the sound of Reindeer powered sleigh take off but just got ambient radiator noise and the occasional snatch of festive cheer from the folks. Final the lights all clicked out as they went to bed. From under my door I could see the flashing reds, blues, greens and yellows spilling under the door in a muted strobe.
It was one of the longest nights of my life (the other two being the night before I left for basic training and the night I lost my virginity to Dawn Summerall who initiated me into the virtues of vodka to commerarate the passing of that particular rite). Occasionally i'd drift in and out of unconsciousness only to wake with a start hoping the sun had finally risen. It didn't of course.
Here and there, on the way to the bathroom i'd sneak a peek past the kitchen, into the living room where our ceiling high pine tree (that Dad carried all the way on the F Train with from work two weeks earlier) and see the sea of gift wrapped boxes that were all around it now. I risked a reconnaissance mission into the kitchen to confirm my suspicions: The little plate of cookies were now crumbs. Seeing this I bolted back into my room. Laid there another hour, squirming, shifting and readjusting my pillow a hundred times.
Finally I could stand no more. I made my way to the living room. Our cat Janessarie was on guard duty. He looked up from his perch on the arm of the couch, shot me this 'Don't do it kid' look he always gave me and as always I ignored him.
I told myself just one present. That's all. Just one. I ripped a tiny corner off one of the bigger boxes with my name on it. Immediately recognized it and all sense of caution washed off me as I tore into the package.
It was the toy that year: A Sho-Gun Warrior sized ALIEN doll in all its Geiger glory, complete with snapping jaws and arms that when pulled out swung back in to grip you in its exoskeletoned hands. I imagined it battling my Godzilla doll (that by then I had already lost the flying fist too and had yanked out his plastic strip of "fire breath" that flicked out when you pulled his neck fin lever). I imagined it hanging from the frame of my door by it's thick prehensil tail scaring the crap out of my parents, suicide squads of Star Wars figures attacking it enmasse.
How could I stop there.
One by one I ripped through the mysteries of Santa's blessings. A legion of die cast metal and space age plastic micronauts, Star Wars playsets, a toy lightsaber (red) that was hollowed out so it made that broken vacuum cleaner sound, a series of books I discarded immediately, a ROM space knight (though that may have been another year- it all jumbles - Sasquatches with removable chests revealing robot machinery, Skretch Armstrongs with rasberry jelly limbs and plastic fantasy armies complete with orcs, catapults, demons, gargoyles, cone hat wizards and an assortment of medieval knights all lifted straight out of the D&D manuals) and best of all were these strange Japanese monster movie dolls that my folks scored exclusively in New York's Chinatown - lobster clawed monsters, tusk for hands cyclopean monsters, a three headed Ghidra and the King of Monsters himself, Godzilla).
I didn't know how it happened. I hadn't been especially "nice" that year. My grades certainly put me on the "Naughty" list, math alone should've seen to that... but somehow not only did I get the toys I wanted... I got the toys I didn't even know I wanted!
I felt redeemed. I felt as if I was given this wonderful second chance.
Of course I spent that chance playing a little too loud with my swag and ended up waking up the folks.
They weren't so much as pissed with my three in the morning rummaging as disappointed. Mom especially. I could see it on her face. But I figured they were all from Santa and that they should've known what he gave me since he was here, as I explained to them.
They just smiled, nodded, sat down and started opening the presents with me.
Years later I would learn that Santa was a friend of the families named "Crazy John". It was he who gave the deceptive "HO-ho-ho" that kept me believing in Santa years after I should've stopped.
Still, looking back, it might not have been my best Christmas but it was certainly the most special... that year I heard Santa and the long night of anxiety and pleasant surprises that followed.
Anyway... I just remembered that.
Merry Christmas everyone... and to all a good night;)
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no subject
on 2007-12-25 06:45 am (UTC)EDIT: Sorry, I get hung up on small amazing details sometimes. Merry Christmas to you, which was, of course, the point of the whole post. :)
no subject
on 2007-12-25 01:26 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2007-12-25 03:05 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2007-12-25 05:01 pm (UTC)happy christmas!
no subject
on 2007-12-26 02:55 am (UTC)Merry Christmas right back 'atcha:)
no subject
on 2007-12-26 02:55 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-12-26 02:56 am (UTC)Merry Christmas as well!
no subject
on 2007-12-26 02:57 am (UTC)Poor kid.
Happy Christmas to you M.
:)