Not sure if I can recall receiving any one super-special Christmas gift as a child. Oh, there was always something important to me, but clearly, those memories are foggy now at best. What I do remember is the Christmas mornings when we were awake before our parents. I can feel the coolness of the carpet on my toes as if I was still sitting on the stairs overlooking the tree with presents sprawled underneath. We simply could not wait.

Someone had to go first.

I am not even sure if their door was open or closed when we sneaked past, but it was like a S.W.A.T. team effort to get past our parents’ bedroom and move down the steps without making any noise. Usually, one of us boys had already been down there to scout as if we were hunting wild turkeys. Had to know if there would be any good hunting in the area today.

Once all three of us were there and had given the lot a proper scan, the receiver of the biggest present was identified as first order, like this was an agenda sent to us by the city council. Secondly, to determine that we all got the same number of gifts, someone had to dive under the tree. That was usually me. I remember once we pulled every present out and sorted them. After being content with sitting beside our stacks of presents for as long as it probably took to wrap them, the oldest said we had to put them back.

At some point we would hear a movement upstairs, or think we heard movement, and sprint back to our rooms. Confident that we got away with our version of ants stealing the left-over crumbs, we waited for the parental call to ‘come on down, boys.’ Of course, we pretended like we had not seen a thing.

Keep dreaming and remembering those special mornings. Have a Happy Friday. Then, have a Merry Christmas.