Anecdote, Awkward, Family, Festivities, Humor, My Idea Of Being An Adult

The Stockings Have Been Ruined

Every year, Christmas morning, I’d stir from my slumber. I’d recall hearing the loud thump on my roof, hide under my blankets hoping Santa has no clue that I’m still awake. If I ever acted out, my mother would scare me by saying, “I just saw an elf pop up from the window. He saw you and he’s going to tell Santa you’ve been naughty!” It could be July and she’d tell me this, which may explain my fear of elves. Clever mom, real clever.

I’d feel a little lump on the end of my bed and find my bedazzled stocking by my feet. It would be the crack of dawn, and the small amount of sunlight would shine down on the candy and knick knacks that had been put together. Ever year, I’d try to stay awake and see if I could catch a glimpse of Santa bringing my stocking to my bed in the middle of the night, but somehow, I always missed it. Sad.

I’d start to unravel my stocking lightly because it was a law in my house to wait for my older sisters to wake up with their stockings too. The stocking is my sister Jaie’s favorite part of Christmas morning. That and the re-runs of A Christmas Story for the entire 24 hours.

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I’d hear my sisters giggling and knew they were awake. I’d take my stocking and scurry into their room where the three of us would go through our stockings filled with socks, jewelry, our favorite candies, and silly $1 toys. We didn’t care that it was 7am, we’d immediately dig into our bags of Rolo’s and Skittles. Finally, my mother would wake up and make us cinnamon rolls for breakfast while we slowly started opening presents together in the living room.

Last year, I told my mom how I couldn’t wait to do that stocking thing she did for my kids. It’s such a nice little surprise every year knowing “Santa” snuck into my room and placed my stocking by my feet. It gave me a rush and thrill at the age of eight. Here’s where I made the mistake in telling my mother that I plan to do the same for my kids. Here’s where the adult truth comes out to play because you’re twenty-four and you can handle it, right?

Let me re-tell this conversation a bit more animately.

“I love how you always put the stockings at the end of our beds. I can’t wait to do that with my kids!” EXCITEMENT FACE.

“You know why I did that, right?” my mother begins. Oh God. Here it comes. This is when my life ends, isn’t it?

“…………………because it’s clever and cute and creative?”

“Because I just spent most of the evening wrapping all of the presents and had one too many drinks, so by putting the stockings in your room, it keeps you kids from waking me up at the crack of dawn so I can sleep off my hangover.”

Sweet Jesus.

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Don’t forget to send me your holiday stories for the first You’re Fine Holiday Contest! Email me at jreyna91@gmail.com and if you win, you’ll get a New Years present from me as well as your story posted to my blog on Christmas Day!

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20 thoughts on “The Stockings Have Been Ruined

  1. Hahaha! For some reason the first paragraph made me laugh too much and then that laugh just carried through to the end. A Christmas Story for 24 hours is one of the best parts of Christmas!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Nana and Grampy says:

    Your Mother learned that from me, her Mother, and I in turn learned it from mine. I think it probably stops there because the rest of the liniage were kind of deadbeats. 😉

    Liked by 1 person

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