Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Warm & Fuzzy Christmas Memories

Its time for the warm and fuzzy of it all, a moment of reflection to our favorite memory of Christmas. There were the times in the single digits where my brother and I would awake before sunrise to find our toys set and ready for play action. There were years where I spent more time in the car than any one house driving with the world’s greatest brother listing to music. Christmas Eve was always wonderful when several families would get together adults sharing stories and children causing mayhem.

Most favorite of all, oddly enough, was a sad mom during a cold Christmas. The local charity dropped off a box with my name on it. I was allowed to open it a whole day early and it turned out to be a pair of flannel PJ’s.

The things we remember most and hold dear to our hearts have nothing to do with common sense or politeness. Because I wish my most vivid memory was one brother hitting the other with the shovel sending him to the hospital for stitches. But the PJ story is good too.

I invite you all to leave your favorite or most vivid Christmas memory, or maybe what you wish it was.


  1. Paul,

    I'm a first time caller, but a big fan ever since I first shook your hand in 1998.

    My favorite Christmas story was at my grandparents house in 1982 in the afternoon. The whole family was done with presents and everyone was getting tired and very full of food. My father got two books by Patrick F McManus ... "Never sniff a gift fish" and "They shoot canoes, don't they" as a present and he started reading the hilarious stories outloud. The whole family sat there and laughed for hours and hours. All the kids were laughing too hard to play with other presents, and did not want to miss a single scene.

    Great memory! Thanks for bringing it back


  2. ...funny to try to think of my favorite -- I LOVE Christmas!

    One vivid memroy is when I was 3 or 4 (yes, I do remember back that far) and I got a Barbie Dream House for Christmas. Obviously I was BEYOND excited and jumped up on my dad's lap to give him a thank you hug. I was a pretty short kid, so I was actually standing on his leg and moved in close to wrap my little arms around his neck. In doing so, I stepped on his man-parts. He let out a load roar of a yelp. I was so confused and scared that my dad's reaction to my hug was to shout. My mom gently explained that I need to be careful not to step on daddy.

  3. I was probably 5 at the time, and my sister and I received sleds from the big man in red, but oddly enough (in northern Illinois) we didn't have snow that year. So, we got on our sleds and flew down the living room stairs (and immediately got in trouble). From then on out, we used our sleds as boats (on the blue carpet) and piled them high with all our gifts and played.