Me & My Dad & Christmas Traditions

I've been up since 6:20 waiting for the others to awaken to see what Santa brought. Every year I'm the first one up, eager to run down the stairs. It's the Magic of Christmas that never dims, no matter my age. I could call Dad right now, because I bet he's up, too. He's always the first one up on Christmas morning. Even though all the "kids" have grown and gone long ago, as long as Dad's around, there will always be a big kid in Mom's house!

When I was little and the other kids had mostly "grown up," I inherited the job of following dad around and around the tree with the big, old colored bulbs while he put them on the tree. They were wrapped around an old parchesee board to keep them from tangling. Dad taught me to do the Christmas lights "right." Now my kids follow me around and around and around the tree with thousands of white lights on boards, while I put them on just like Dad taught me - in the tree, out, back to the trunk, back out. It takes a few hours, but the end result is worth it.

When I went to bed at night, Dad would lift me up to ring the bells hanging from the mistletoe in the hallway. When I got a little bigger, I could lean over the stair banister and ring the bells myself, but it was always better when Dad lifted me up. Now I have bells in my house hanging from mistletoe in the hallway - courtesy of Mom. I can reach them all by myself, but when I ring them, I remember Dad.

And this morning, when the teenagers finally do wake up, I will torture them, just like Dad tortured us (Mom gets a little credit here, too). The kids have to sit at the top of the stairs while I make sure Santa really did come. (At least they don't have to wait for 4 siblings to awaken, too, like I did). Then I have to get some coffee for K and some diet coke for me. Then I have to wander around, banging things in the kitchen, pretending to look for the camera, telling the kids "just another minute." They will play along as if scripted from my past, pretending to creep down the stairs, pretending to hear me say, "OK" when they know I have said, "Not yet." Finally, the joyous words, "OK I'm READY" resound (like I haven't been ready since 6:41 a.m.??!!).

Merry Christmas Dad!!