We have so many crazy memories of Christmas Eve that it is hard some times to account for them all. A neighbor next door to me reminded me of a moment I failed to tell anyone about -- because it was a bit embarrassing.
About ten years ago my son asked for a drum set for Christmas.
A wise elf admonished us early in our marriage to always clear a wishlist to Santa with Mom first -- if Mom didn't approve, Santa wouldn't deliver.
There was just no way my son was getting drums. He was eight, all boy, and prone to, uh, enthusiastic activities. We had not one but two little girls under the age of three and life was chaotic enough.
No drums. Mom said no. I said no. And Santa never heard the request.
But a neighbor did and a few days before Christmas, as they cleaned out their basement in advance of a house move, he brought us over a set of used drums. This good man was a musician with years of experience and when I...