Jingle, jingle, jingle, jingle...........

It must be getting closer to the holiday. Two of the four in our house are sick. At least I have everything purchased and wrapped. Now I just have to find the strength to make green rice krispy treats for the class party tomorrow. And remember to not cough while doing it. ;)

Is everyone else ready, or are you planning on braving the malls this weekend? If so, I wish you luck. You're going to need it.

One of my favorite Christmas memories............
My brother, sister, and I were all taking turns opening our presents on Christmas morning. It was my turn and my mom told me to pick out one of the gifts with my name on it. To: Roxanne From: Santa. It was written out in perfect cursive handwriting, just like all the other gifts from Santa and not like either of my parent's handwriting (yes, I was that inquistive). Just as I opened the box, my breath was taken away. It was the cutest and softest stuffed raccoon I had ever laid my eyes upon. I cuddled it up to my chest and buried my face into it. I was in heaven.

I was so lost in the moment that I hadn't noticed my mother's pleas. For some strange reason, she was telling me that this was NOT my gift. Huh? It had my name on it. It was in Santa's perfect handwriting. You must be mistaken (not exactly what I was thinking at the time.....more like "MINE, MINE, MINE!!"). No matter how much I protested, she still kept insisting that it was not my raccoon.

"How would YOU know? Santa's the one that picked it out for me, wrapped it, and put my name on the tag???!"

"Well, I think he made a mistake and put the wrong tag on it."

"How do YOU know?!"

"He told me."

*thinking, thinking, thinking*

*still with a death grip on the raccoon*

(my older brother and sister loved the fact that they still had something over on me with the whole Santa sham, so they were not going to devulge any info.)

"How did Santa tell you? Weren't you in bed when he came?"

"He asked me to help him wrap some of the gifts."

"I don't believe you. This is MY raccoon. It had my name on it."

*slowly releasing death grip, because I know who's truly in charge and it's NOT Santa*

I did eventually give up the raccoon, but I NEVER EVER let my sister thoroughly enjoy it. She, on the other hand and true to form, made it worse by rubbing it in at every opportunity, that that was HER raccoon and I was not to ever touch it. (I believe I snuck in a few cuddles here and there when she wasn't looking.)

Many years later, after having children of my own, I still can't believe that my mom chose to handle the situation the way she did. She says that she did it because we always had an equal amount of gifts and that if she hadn't have made me give it to the rightful owner (which is still questionable), then I would have had one more gift than my brother and two more than my sister. My guess is that it would have been less traumatic (and probably unnoticeable since us kids never actually counted our gifts), if I had had more gifts then if I had one ripped from my soul.

What do you think?

I invite everyone to write about their favorite Christmas memory, good or bad.
Have fun!

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!!!!