Raul Ascunce
As I reflect on Christmases past, some very early memories from my childhood come to mind. Not knowing much about the Christmas traditions back when I was four years old, I watched in awe as my parents readied the house for this festive season.
My Dad, the original Clark Griswold, was an expert at exterior illumination. Every conceivable bush, tree, and fence was gaily festooned with white lights, swagged to perfection. Whenever I offered my assistance, Dad would tell me to go play ball, or that he was busy right now, but would play with me after the lights were hung.
Inside the house, Mom was putting out pine-scented candles, which for some reason always made me want to pee. She started baking all sorts of delicious cookies and pastries which made the house smell absolutely wonderful! Then she would give me every single bowl to lick! Talk about heaven! Most of December my nose was covered in powdered sugar and frosting.
Those early Christmases were upsetting at times, as these huge vans would park out front of our house and some strange man would sprint to the front door and drop boxes and packages off on the front porch. Then he would ring the doorbell and run away. My immediate thought was “Stranger danger, stranger danger,” and I would try to alert Mom and Dad that something bad had happened. But they would just open the door, pick up the packages and look all happy about what had been left on the porch.
When the parent brought in a tree I thought, “Okay, the folks have really lost it. They are trying to plant a tree inside the house! Now this is going to be a problem.”
Dad, with his light obsession, hung bright lights all over the tree. Mom meticulously placed shiny ornaments on the branches. Some even had my picture on them.
Seriously, how do my parents expect a four-year-old to resist that kind of temptation? But I am a good boy. I decided to put myself in charge of watering the tree.
Then Christmas day arrived! There were beautifully wrapped presents under the tree and family all around. Everyone was so happy opening presents and throwing paper and boxes on the floor. I was elated and began tearing into the discarded packages like I was eviscerating a squirrel. No package was safe and within minutes, the entire floor was strewn with my yuletide destruction.
“Charles Ralph, you crazy dog! It sure looks like you enjoy Christmas morning! I can’t believe what a mess you’ve made. You haven’t even played with the toys Santa brought you. All you like are the boxes!”
As a dog, I really love Christmas! The lights, the cookies, the tree and those pine-scented candles that make me want to…
“Charlie! Don’t pee on the tree!”
A very Merry Christmas to all my readers from the wife, myself, and Charles Ralph!
