Do Not Open Until Dec. 25th

We had our Christmas routine down pat at our house. Two weeks before the holiday I’d bug my mother to put up the Christmas Tree. “Not until we clean this house.” she’d say.

So, once a year I would gladly help clean the house. There was a table in the living room with a curly cue bottom. You had to dust it with a q-tip. That was my job and it was an important one because the Christmas Village would be set up under that table. It was day by day dismantled by the cat. But, boy we tried.

One year Thanksgiving came around and we had company from Worcester, Mass. My favorite aunt and uncle came with my four cousins. I think their usual holiday was Easter; so being all together on Thanksgiving was a special treat.

A long day full of turkey, cousins playing and laughing ensued. I would put the dishes away after my mother and aunt washed and dried. I kept very quiet. Because, if they forgot I was there they would gossip like I wasn’t. I would get to find out what was going on with who first hand with no censoring involved. Somewhere along the line it would get a little too juicy and my mother would tell me to go play. With anyone. Just go play.

That year a gift was left behind. A beautifully wrapped Christmas present with a hand tied bow. It was embellished with a sticker that said “Do Not Open Until Dec. 25th” and it had my name on it.

My mother caught me shaking it and waving it over my head. Testing it for weight and movement. Was it a toy, made of glass or another pair of slippers I’d never wear?

“Who is this from” I asked my mother as she snatched it out of my hands. “It’s from your Auntie Betty.” she said as she pointed to the Do Not Open sticker and stuck it on the top shelf of the linen cupboard. It was a shelf I could not reach unless I climbed on top of a precarious stack of blankets. My mother was tricky with her hiding spots. You could snoop; but you’d probably get hurt.

“I have to wait until Christmas? That is a month away! No way does Auntie Betty want to torture me for a month. Give me that present, Ma. She doesn’t mean for me to wait.” I pleaded. I threw it out there. I did not score.

“Forget it. She is your Godmother and she wanted you to have that for Christmas. Now quit bugging me or I’ll find something for you to do. The table curly cues need a good dusting.” she threatened. I disappeared in a flash.

I forgot about that gift after a few days. I dutifully dusted and vacuumed corners a few weeks before Christmas. I put out the little cardboard houses, elves and pine cone trees. I tried talking sense into the cat. “You do not want to chew on that pine cone tree” I would tell her. “It will make you sick.” She would do it anyways and get sick on the middle of my pillow.

Santa came and it was glorious. We were a house of three children that didn’t ask for much. But, Santa always got totally carried away. I mean, he could have kept the oranges and walnuts at the bottom of our stockings. Otherwise he was a great, great man. A saint of a man.

Everything was opened when I recognized the last gift under the tree. Do Not Open Until Dec. 25th. My mother passed it to me and I reverently untied the beautiful bow. Then I lost it and ripped the paper off with my finger nails.

Inside, nestled in tissue paper was a beautiful red cable knitted cap with matching scarf and mittens. It was not home made like the ones I was used to. It was gloriously store bought and smelling of the perfume counter. With that one gift I knew my Auntie Betty knew me very well. She got me.

“Hmmmm……………Betty doesn’t really know you at all does she?” my mother asked. “You are one kid that will not keep a hat on her head. And a scarf? Never. The mittens I suppose you’ll use.”

What? Are you FINISHED? You don’t know me AT ALL I thought. I will wear this hat, scarf and mitten set every day until the pussy willows push up through the ground.

But, of course, my mother knew me quite well. She knew she had found a way to keep a hat on my head, a scarf on my neck and mittens on my hands. She was smart that way. She knew how much I loved my Auntie Betty.