Why I get up early on Christmas still years later.

I think it was 1955, when my Dad (Great story teller) read us the “Night before Christmas” and with his great read had me convinced that I would have visions of sugar plums (yes, that part of the poem) and we were sent to bed.
Hours later, I got out of bed, saw that huge display of Christmas toys for brother Richard and I and Mom was busy in the kitchen cooking.
Dad wasn’t home he was working night shift in the Air Force then, Mom exclaimed that Santa must’ve snuck in while she was busy. I was sent back to bed and told to now wake my late brother Richard. I don’t think I slept at all, thinking about all the toys.

I still don’t have visions of sugar plums, but I do have great memories of then.

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