December 15, 2007
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The Big Wet
When we were younger it was always a challenge to try and figure out what the gifts were. My sister was a big proponent of sniffing things out and knowing all before Christmas. I am not saying I am innocent of this crime, but I can easily say that she was the instigator, as D is in most of our adventures.
My moms favorite spot was always the top of the closet, because it was a hard reach for us and the sweaters folded at the top were easy to bury the bootie under. Sometimes there would be a stash under the bed, but only if it was a larger item, or often not something for us, but for friends and relatives.
It didn’t take my Mom long to figure out that we were sniffing around and threats would fly. They were the usual, coal in the stocking or no visit from Santa at all. After a couple Christmas’, gift’s didn’t come home at all, she started leaving them at the office
We have a friend that we were practically raised with, I consider her a sister of my heart and H and D were inseparable when we were younger. Our Mother’s are best friends. They would go shopping together and I assume the gifts would be stashed together because they would bring them all home and hide in the back bedroom of the house, wrapping and giggling and talking together.
The first year they did this, D and H were still determined to know what their gifts were before Christmas. After the threats were given of stay away or you will get nothing and the door was closed the plotting began.
How to see what was going on behind the door? Glasses were taken out of the cupboard and held to the door as they strained to hear any little rattle or jingle, any tell tale sound of the mysteries beyond. Locks were tested, note slipped under the door, nothing opened the door and the giggles behind the door became mocking and louder.
Suddenly I could see the bulb light over my younger sisters head. It was brilliant, I must admit. There were two windows into that room, two ! So out the door they flew, to the back of the house. A quick consultation was had about the where and how. H was to be hoisted onto D’s shoulders and then report what could be seen.
I just sat back and watch as the farce unfolded.
The laughter had to be off of the charts and the shushing each other was not quiet… H’s eight year old eyes just reached the edge of the window as she was still gasping for breath from laughter that just would not stop. All of a sudden D let out a yelp through her laughter, “You peed on me!” Just then there was an abrupt yell from inside and the slamming of curtains…well if curtains could be slammed they would have been.
H was still laughing and D was laughing so hard, her legs were wobbling and the two fell to the ground still laughing. So the plan was foiled, there were wet pants and wet shoulders and uncontrollable laughter galore, but no one was the wiser about the gifts.
I believe that once the clean up was done and the Mother’s came out there was a lecture about what was deserved and all that. The laughter went on for days.
My sister and her best friend gave me the best gift. A memory that will last forever. A memory of them at eight, young, fun, inquisitive and full of laughter. When I think of it and them my heart fills with Love.
Thanks for the gift you two.
Comments (24)
That was a great post! Thanks for sharing that special memory
That is such a great story! You made me laugh
great story!
When my little brother and I were very small, my parents were really poor and marginally able to provide any Christmas presents at all except something home made. At the time, my mother had 8 living siblings. One of her brothers, Sam, who was 20 years older than Mother, was married with no children, lived nearby and had a good job working for Ford. For many Christmas Eves, after my brother and I went to bed, Uncle Sam and Aunt Myrtle came to our house, helped my parents set up and decorate the tree, and left a huge box of wrapped presents for us. They never took any credit for what “Santa” had brought, and were never properly thanked by my brother and I. Although I sill have a few of the physical gifts, the real gift was their example of unselfish giving, which brings a tightness to my throat and a tear to my eye whenever I think of them – especially at this time of year. Interestingly, Uncle Sam died on December 31, 1969, and my Mother died exactly 37 years later to the day.
Fixed the pics. I’ll be back and read make a proper comment.
Wonderful story! Thanks for sharing that!
Hugs!
ha ha ha!
Now that was a fun story! I really enjoyed reading it.
My sister was nosy like that, and once when I was babysitting her wanted to open gifts under the tree, and I said no. So she opened one that my uncle had sent. I was really mad, and then she told my parents that I had opened it!! And my parents believed her! I think that kinda spoiled it for me. To this day, I don’t even want to know what I get, won’t look under the tree, and my kids and dh will tell you that they never have to worry about me snooping around!
I’m all ok. Paying rent early and putting up poems I wrote a while ago on protected.
That was so gross, I loved it.
I love when you laugh so hard that you pee.My aunt froze to a sled that way,we got so weak from laughing!
I can almost see this Ang and you laughing!
This was a post that needed no pictures! You told the story so well that I could see it clearly without them. Thank you for sharing. Peace
ya’ll should have got a whipping and put to bed and no presents. you goof ball.
Great story! Hahahaahah!! Thanks for sharing!
Oh, I do remember those days so well. I was the oldest, so I am sure I stirred up quite a bit of mischief… but I could always get the younger ones to go along.
Hugs, Tricia
That’s hysterical!!!! I love it!
My sister and I never had to find the actual gifts– my mother kept a master list of who she bought what for– we just would find the list each year! LOL
Now that’s just plain sweet!
What a riot!! My “secret hiding spot” at the moment happens to be two dressers in the basement we don’t use. I stick stuff in the drawers and the kids have never though to look there (I suspect that won’t last much longer though as they get older and think more about it). The other day I told my son the presents were in the attic (we don’t even really have one, just a crawlspace) and he spent the next hour insisting I get him a ladder so he could go up and look…
Ah yes the memories! Hope your Sunday is going great!
awesome, that’s great.
That has to be one of the sweetest memories I have ever heard!!!
Later,
Gina
Here I am at work trying to be sneaky whilst goofing off … and I slip a laugh out loud. Thanks! As fun as giggling in church!
I assume you have a more recent post, but for some reason, my computer give me that Xanga-error-page when I try to go to your home page…so I’ll just comment here.
Thanks for the comments, by the way
Bresa is a little country bar and ranch where I went three times a week for a few years. I made some great friends and had so much fun line dancing there. Oh, it’s in Otsego.