Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Memories

I was recently asked to talk about one of my favorite holiday memories. I have so many funny family stories. How to pick just one...

Perhaps one of the most memorable occurred about 15 years ago, when my youngest brother was about 10. Being the youngest, he was, of course, the most excited for Christmas. He also wanted to get up at the crack of dawn to open his gifts.

The other siblings and I were in our mid-teens. We loved Christmas, but we also loved sleep. You remember those teenage years when you couldn't sleep enough? That was all three of us. We all had our own room at this point. My other brother was in the basement. My sister and I were down the hall from each other upstairs. The little guy was across the hall from us.

Around 5am, the little guy comes in to my room. He shakes my shoulder until I wake up. He can barely keep his excited voice in a whisper as he tells me it's Christmas. With a sense of urgency, he tells me that it's time to get up and open our presents. "Is Brother up yet?" I ask, my eyes drifting close. He admits that no, Brother is not up yet. "Well, go get Brother, and when he's up, let me know. I'll come right down." The little guy goes skipping down the hall and down, down to the basement.

About 10 minutes later, he comes walking back in. I hear the patter of his feet and open my eyes. "So...?" He drops his arms down, leans on my bed and sighs with the weight of a hundred years. "Brother asked if you and Sister were awake, and when you were both downstairs he'd come up for presents." I just smiled. "Ok, so go get Sister, tell her to go downstairs. Then tell Brother to meet us. Then, come get me." I must have sounded convincing because he left for another round of trying to convince each of us to be the first to get up.

Sister caved first, probably because she was second youngest...plus she is easily worn down by whining. Brother and I held out for a long time, sending the little guy up and down 2 flights of stairs several times. By the time we both agreed to get up (it's probably only 6am at this point), the little guy had separated all of the presents into nice piles for each of us, arranged pillows and chairs near the stacks, and was grinning madly near his stash. Brother and I laughed as we realized we had sent him back and forth no less than 4 times. It was at this point that we learned that the little guy had been up since 4a and had watched an old VHS copy of Scrooged before coming to get us. Watching Scrooged became a yearly tradition for him, and I'm actually not sure if he's outgrown it yet...15 years later...

2 comments:

Me said...

Also one of my favorite memories. I remember coming upstairs to see everything all separated and little bro all giddy, like he was hopped up on sno-caps. And then you and I realized what we put the little tyke through. Poor guy. I imagine this year won't be any different.

Julia said...

yep... i wonder if he'll do it again this year.