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Writer's pictureEric Lunde

Xmas as it was


So one xmas eve we arose to such a clatter we rushed to the windows to see what was the matter but no it was father with a ladder.

Coming down from the roof.

Well, that was weird.

And it had snowed. A lot.

We heard dad stagger into the house, knocking over two chairs and cursing up a storm. And we could hear him approaching our room and we turned away from the door and pretended to sleep.

This time he stood at the door then turned on the light.

“Boys…I got some terrible news. Santa fell off the roof. Yeah, that’s right. But I rescued him and got him back on his sleigh. The bad news is, your xmas presents fell off his sleigh and there all in the backyard. So, I’d advise you both to get some pants on and get out there….”

Well, that’s really not good.

We sprang from our beds, in our flannel pajamas and ran out the back door in our bare feet.

“Where were all the presents?”

“Under the snow I reckon’” my father said.

So we dove in, sixteen inches of newly fallen snow, pushing through with our bare feet, with our bare hands, feeling about for anything, anything that felt like a present. Square, round, soft, hard. My brother pulled up a lawn chair. I pulled up a 4” x 4” we had used to chock my mother’s tires when her brakes went out.

We were out there for an hour, slowly succumbing to hyperthermia.

My dad stood on the porch laughing.

“You fucking idiots! There ain’t no Santa!”

But we didn’t hear him, not only because we were so focused on finding these gifts but the severe cold effected our hearing.

Finally, my brother stopped.

“It’s fucking hot out here.” And he took off his flannel pajama shirt and rolled over into the snow.

Mother came screaming.

“Get up! Get out of there!!! What the hell, Mel?”

“Consider it the greatest xmas gift! A life lesson, sweets! You don’t get nothin’ for nothin’.”

Mom wrapped me and my brother in blankets and rushed us to the emergency room.

All the while singing “Jingle Bells.”

And dad laughing loudly HO HO HO.

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