This will be my 41st Christmas on this earth. That's a lot of Christmases. I have gone from asking Santa for a hamster to a Kindle. I hope the Kindle lasts longer. My very first Christmas I was only a few months old, but there are pictures of me in a little red "Santa" onezie in my baby carrier thing. They would place me there and I would marvel at the pretty lights and shiny tinsel, in between scanning the room for my favorite beings (other than mom, of course) like big brother and the family dog. Not a whole lot has changed there either. I can still be found this time of year sitting by the tree and staring at the shininess of it all, with dogs close by.
I did get my hamster one year. A Teddy Bear Hamster...which I named "Teddy". I think this was my 5th Christmas. He came in one of those Habitrail things, with a tube leading up to a skyline apartment and a nifty running wheel on the main floor. Teddy didn't last long, as one day he got out of his cage (those little "clips" that held the lid on, weren't very easy for a five year old to secure properly) and in a frantic attempt to catch him again, I grabbed him and squeezed a little too tight...then he bit my thumb. I can still remember my horror at the blood dripping from my thumb. Sadly, when I squeezed too tight I injured him pretty badly and my dad had to put him down. Sad, yes I know. I still feel bad about that and have never owned another hamster again and am thanking God that my children have never expressed interest in the little rodents.
I also remember the year I got my "Baby Chrissy" doll. You could make her hair short or long all by a little string on her back. What was cool about her was that she was big enough that I could dig into mom's cedar chest and pull out some of the baby clothes she still had of mine and put them on the doll. That doll wore my
"dedication" gown for a long time...until I got tired of it on her and started making the cat wear it.
One year I got "Pete" the ventriloquist dummy. He came with his own red case and everything. I had visions of becoming this really good ventriloquist. Right up until I saw the movie "Magic" about the homicidal dummy. Then I put him deep in my closet and piled a bunch of crap on top of him so he couldn't "get out". I eventually sold him for 5 bucks at a garage sale. Sorry Pete.
That is what pretty much comes to mind when I think of my past Christmases. Well, except for some of the Christmas decor items my parents had laying around. That is another post though. So thank you Teddy (RIP), Chrissy and Pete for the memories.....