I hate Christmas and I don't know why.
My brother says he has trouble too.
My mother said we never had a bad
Christmas, so she didn't understand
why we both feel like we do.
And truly, I don't remember a bad Christmas
as a kid. I remember being a rotten kid.
Opening presents ends and peeking in to
see what I got. That was after the Santa bit.
In the beginning, we would go to bed to
a regular living room. To wake to the
wonderment of Christmas. A tree that
was always tall. There was the train that
had been under our tree each year. Yet
as the Santa believer, it never dawn on
us or at least me... that the train was the
same as before. We had stockings hanging
from the mantel over the fireplace.
It was the typical American 1940's
Even after we caught on to the Santa
bit, we still had a tree, that went up a
week before. The presents were there.
And of course the train.
The train was funny. As my father had
bought it for me the first Christmas.
I was too little to run it, so he would run
it for my mother and I. Then 4 years later
my brother showed up on the scene. And
a few years later it became his train.
1. I was a girl, girls don't have trains.
2. My brother was a boy and they did
have trains...but he too, was too little
to play with trains. So my father would
play with the train, while my brother and
I watched. By the time my brother, who
had gotten an erector set and was old
enough to combine the two..... well, the
train set was too old and it was a collector's
item. But I do think my brother did get to
play with it one year. I remember watching
the train going really fast, smoke blowing
and the train flipping off the track. Dad wasn't
happy. But he didn't get too mad.
This was the typical 1950's Christmas.
So why this uncomfortable feeling each
time at this year? And we both get over it
about noon Christmas day.
I worked very hard not to pass it on to
my kids. And I guess I did it right, as all
of them love Christmas.
I love 4th of July...
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