The Year I Ruined Christmas

[mrdreamjeans]

Until the day she died, once a year at Christmas time, my mother would say to me, “Do you remember the year you ruined Christmas?” Each year, my reply would be, “Yes. And Dad and you deserved it. You didn’t believe me.”

 

From the age of 11, I told my folks I wanted to be a writer and a singer when I grew up. In fairness to them, they were a product of their times when it came to raising children. At the age of 11, I still believed in Santa Claus. I was getting in fights at school with other kids who were saying Santa didn’t exist. My argument was my parents told me Santa existed, so it had to be true. They would never lie to me.

 

Each year my sister Colleen and I would make a Christmas wish list at our folks’ request. In 1965, I had one item I wanted more than any other ... a typewriter. I dreamed of creating stories. My sister wanted a race track set and a doll.

 

Came Christmas morning, my sister, brother and I woke Mom and Dad up before dawn as we did every Christmas, having barely slept, too excited by the arrival of Santa Claus. We rushed down the stairs ... There were gifts under the tree that hadn’t been there the night before. √ The plate of sugar cookies and glass of milk we had left out for Santa had been consumed. √ Now, on to the gifts! I was so excited!

 

Colleen, Jeff and I received many gifts - some marked from Mom and Dad, some marked from one of us to the other ... and one large gift, marked from SANTA! I was beyond excited! I knew Santa wouldn’t let me down! We saved Santa’s gift to open last. Oh, the delicious anticipation!

 

My turn came around and I tore the wrapping paper from the box in a frenzy. Inside, the package was ... a race track. My sister went next. She excitedly opened her box. Inside was ... a typewriter! How could Santa ignore my request for a typewriter?! How could he be so cruel as to give my sister the typewriter? I was offended, heartbroken; I wept over the injustice. My parents explained racetrack sets were for boys and typewriters were for girls!! What??? I was incensed! I was the one who wanted to be a writer, not Sis! Sis wanted a race track, not me!!

 

That Christmas of 1965 I never let up on the annual 135-mile drive to the grandmother’s houses; I explained to everyone who would listen that Santa didn’t understand my dreams; I was hurt. I was mean to everyone ... sarcastic, rude, a real piece of work. When I finally exhausted myself yelling and crying, I pouted. It was so unfair ...

 

At the end of the day, my sister saved the situation. She offered to swap the typewriter for the race track (which I agreed to right away). I used that typewriter for decades. The lesson? Parents! Listen to your children when they have a passion. Sometimes your kids really do know what they want to be when they grow up or otherwise you could be saying to them for the rest of your life, “Do you remember the year you ruined Christmas?!”

 

ps ... Can you imagine the meltdown I had when my parents admitted they were Santa? I was heartbroken. Through my tears, I said, “The Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy are real, right?”

Comments

[billeyler]

Thanks for sharing this story. You are such a brat! ;-)

At about the same age, my parents would 'deliver' similar types of gifts for us. My brother would get a Science Experiment Kit, and I would get a shirt. My brother would get an Erector Set and I would get dress slacks.

I came to understand much later that my parents were afraid that my brother, always getting into mischief, wouldn't excel at school work, while they had no worries about me in that regard. Hence, the 'thought-provoking' gifts for him. I would end up playing with his more than he did.

And yet, Steve dropped out of school before he finished his senior year, never had decent grades, joined the Marines, then eventually got a GED. Oh, well!

[mrdreamjeans]

I was a brat! :) My parents were so much about gender stereotypes ... It was the early 60's ... I also played with dolls ... I was always fixing my sister's Barbie's hair and accessorizing Barbie's clothes properly. My sister had zero taste at that stage of her life and her dolls always looked tortured unless I fixed what my sister did to them. :)

In 1965, I told my folks, "I want to be a writer and a singer". For most of my life, I've done exactly those two things!

[zipperbear]

Even if kids are wrong about what they really want, they could learn the important lesson that things don't always bring happiness.

[mrdreamjeans]

I certainly learned that lesson ... I also learned you don't always get your way. :)

But, I was right ... LOL!

[apparentparadox]

I still believe in Santa. Just because I'm not on the good list, doesn't mean he doesn't exist!

[mrdreamjeans]

My mother always said, if you believe in there's a Santa then there will always be one.

Bullshit, but kind ... LOL!

[cheshirecatsmiles]

I agree. You could say that THEY ruined Xmas?