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I’m going to tell one of my little blonde girl stories. As usual, YOU are the little blonde girl.

Ever since you can remember, when you came back from Thanksgiving, it was Christmas season. Your daddy always got excited around Christmastime, and that made you excited too. He’d tell you that you needed to write your Christmas list, and the whole family would start the immense preparations for Christmas.  Daddy would put in the first rotation of Christmas music, and the first Saturday you, your brother, and your parents would get all the Christmas boxes out of the basement.

Oh, and the things in the boxes! Your mom always got all the Christmas linens out first so that Daddy could iron them while listening to Bing Crosby sing about White Christmases, and you would sit on the couch and work on your Christmas list, getting up to put the next stocking or Swedish table stole or Santa dish towel wherever it went when your daddy was done ironing it. That was Monday night.

After you got out all the linens, daddy and your brother (and maybe you’d even tag along) would move the furniture and go get the tree.  And if you didn’t go with them, you’d stare out the window, waiting, watching for the new tree to come into your life, obsessively refreshing the water and turning the screws on the tree stand so it would be just so perfect when it came in. And then, when they finally drove up in the brown 80’s Chevy Silverado (that only rode smooth when the bed was full), you’d jump off the couch, open the door, fiddle with the screen door, and direct them to the stand. When they got it in the stand, you just stood there and checked the tree, and yes! you’d discover, the top was straight. Then you’d get the step-stool and daddy would put the heavy gold star on the very top of the tree, and after that the beautiful thin glass angels. When you were done with all the delicate things on top, the step stool would be put away and you and your brother continued with the rest of the ornaments, the gnomes, the bells, the ones everybody made in first grade, and your favorite, the adorable little penguins and polar bears.

To be continued…

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One Comment

  1. I can so relate to this. Every year we have to bring out our fake tree, and my dad and I always assemble it together. It’s a tradition, and I always demand that I listen to Nat King Cole while we do it, een though there is always a football game on when we put up the tree.

    Our chirstmas’ are different though. We have a ton of ornaments, seriously, boxes stuffed with them. Then we have all these christmas stuffed animals, and there are no christmas linens. We do have table clothes though, and a ton of figurines that we have to take out all of our books to fit all the christmas stuff on.

    I love christmas, this made me smile, and it was also sad. 🙂


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