Christmas Three: Mom n' Dad!

Our third and final Christmas was Christmas Day with my parents. In attendance were my parents and grandparents, as well as my sister and her husband Bull-Rider, their kids Yacko (6), Dot (4), and Wacko (almost 1), and my sister's niece. Also periodically roaming around were my parent's two dogs.

Story 1: Perhaps the most special moments of the entire holiday were shared between my grandpa (84-ish) and my youngest nephew Wacko (almost 1). Grandpa just sat there during most of the gift-opening with Wacko in his lap. Neither seemed to care much about their gifts. :)

Story 2: Yacko (6), on the other hand, cared very much about his gifts. He was a little whirlwind - he would run to the middle of the living room with a gift. He'd rip open the paper and squeal about the present inside. Then, he'd push the gift off to the side, and run to the tree again. Literally, the last piece of wrapping paper from the previous gift hadn't finished floating down to the floor before Yacko had his next present in hand, and was running again. I was deeply impressed. His little sister Dot (4) was more or less doing the same thing, on the theory that if brother can do it, I can do it too!

Story 3: Yacko wasn't particular about whose gift he picked up... he'd just grab and go. Sometimes he could read the name on the package, and sometimes he needed help. If the gift wasn't his, he'd run over and hand it to the lucky recipient, and then he'd be off and running again. At one point, he grabbed a gift for his infant brother Wacko.

On learning who it was for, he ran halfway to where Wacko was sitting in Grandpa's lap. "Wacko, hands UP!" he shouted, and threw the present at him. The present hadn't even reached the peak of its arc before Yacko was turned around and running back toward the tree. The present bounced off the wall next to Grandpa. Wacko didn't seem to mind (or notice, really).

Story 4: At dinner, most of us were seated and starting to eat. Yacko started to play with his food. He had a piece of ham that looked like a face (to him, anyway), and he was talking with it.

Dad caught this out of the corner of his eye, and asked Bull-Rider what Yacko was doing. Bull-Rider chuckled and said, "He's making his food talk." Dad thought about this a moment. Then he laughed and said, "My food doesn't usually talk until a couple of hours after I eat it."


Christmas is always hectic and busy. But I know how blessed I am. I love this time of year.