From The Storyteller

October 23, 2017,  Footsteps

I am young enough to still expect Santa to arrive by reindeer powered sleigh. It is dark time on Christmas Eve, and bed is the only place I am allowed to be. I hear the footsteps on the roof and know “He” has arrived. I lay still not wanting to scare him away.

Time passes. How much I do not know. I decide the coast is clear and get up. The house is dark. Mom, Dad and my sisters are still asleep. I go downstairs and discover heaven. Santa Claus had truly come, and he had left presents all over the living room.

It was time for action. Checking the names on gifts was unnecessary. Open all of them and you know. Eventually my box of 50 little plastic army men and my Remco Bulldog Tank were discovered. Morning found me in the midst of all the open presents, fighting a great war with my new tank and 50 army men.

It was about that time my parents and sisters came down to find their Christmas surprise. With a huge smile, standing in the middle of all these opened presents, I proclaim the obvious – “Santa came and left all this great stuff”. For a while that day I was banished to the backroom. No, problem – my army men and the tank went with me and the war continued. Christmas day came and went, and fortunately this was not the year I knocked over the Christmas tree.

It was several years later, when family stories were being retold, that I learned two things about my parents. One, their only son never stopped surprising them; and two, I made them smile a lot more than I knew.

Moral - A sense of humor can go along way when raising children.