Santa again extracts a promise of good behavior and then reaches for his sack—the big moment at last. As Santa pulls out each package he reads the name and hands it to Uncle Rudy to deliver. I know, of course, that in late summer the family drew names so we could exchange gifts but that was months ago and I didn’t connect it to the present in my hand. When all the presents have been passed out, we boys go upstairs to see what we have received and play some games.
Soon, though, came the call to go home. It had been an exciting evening but there was more to come. Sure enough, when we walked in the front door, we saw the presents Santa left us, probably after he left Grandma’s house.
I have a radio, Dave, an electric jigsaw, and Darrel, a record player with some records. We stay up for an hour or so to enjoy the present, then time for bed.
Christmas was over, the snow had turned to slush, the Christmas trees lay out by the alley waiting for the garbage man to haul them away, and we grew bored with our gifts—except for Darrel. He drove us crazy playing his records over and over. I still shudder when I hear “Big Rock Candy Mountain” or “Johhny’s So Long at the Fair.”