1. The year I heard sleigh bells outside. I was five. Give me a break. I still swear I heard them though to this day.
2. The year I got a Strawberry Shortcake Doll, was dragged to church in the stinking heat and had to leave to throw up outside in the garden. I might have been 8 or 9.
3. The year I got a porcelain doll (which my then baby sister later dropped on the floor and broke) AND a new music stand. That was a big Christmas. I might have been 10?
4. The year we ate Christmas dinner in our tent at the beach at Mon Repos in a howling northerly wind. I had a Mickey Mouse shirt which I thought was really cool. Somewhere there is a photo documenting both these events. It shall not be released to the public. I was probably about 12. The beginning of the awkward ugly teenage years.
5. The year my brother and I received the Mad Magazine Board Game. What larks. We played that game like MAD. (geddit!)
6. The years we would drive to Brisbane for Christmas with my Dad’s family. That yellow Datsun 200B did quite a few miles. We would also take the dog ( a labrador) who sat in the front on the floor with my mother. Christmas would be downstairs in the louvred outdoor area near the pool and include every type of salad imaginable (bean, rice, coleslaw, etc) and many different types of meat. The highlight was the plum pudding with the money wrapped in alfoil. Oh, and the merciless teasing from my uncles. Merciless teasing is part of the Davis family gene pool. It continues through the generations to this day.
7. The last Christmas we had with my Grandpa. I found a photo of this on the weekend. It looked nice.
8. The year I convinced my mother to have the big dinner in the cool of the evening rather than the heat of the day.
9. The year I got some towels. Oh wait, that’s nearly every year on record. Thank you grandparents.
10. The year we gorged ourselves on seafood.Oh wait, that never happens because my father is allergic to just about everything except fish.
11. The year we went to Hervey Bay, dragging my hungover brother with us (despite his claims that he was fine because he had a “fast metabolism”. Yeah right). He spent most of the day asleep. The rest of us watched John English in The Pirates of Penzance on video. Wild times.
12. The year (not that long ago) my brother and I bought our parents a DVD player. They’ve never been so surprised. They’ve never looked back either. It’s DVDs from morn til night.
13. The year my Mother actually got my Father to put up more than one string of fairy lights on the house. It was like a veritable fairyland (but still the lamest display in the street). Some people have a lot of time, and lights on their hands don’t they. What about the environment?? (Cue false indignation)
14. The year I was Christmas shopping and heard Here Comes the Sun on the muzak in a shop without ever having heard it before. Unwittingly I had asked for Abbey Road for Christmas and BOOM there it was. That was one of the best musical moments of my life.
15. That’s all I can think of although clearly there have been many more Christmases because I am older than 14. They tend to all blend into one after a while don’t they.
16. Oh, I guess I should include the year we finally gave up on Santa Claus. That was a little bit sad really, even though my mother usually insists on still writing “To Wendy, from Santa” on at least one gift. I hope she remembers to do that this year.
4 Comments »
You make my list of Christmases look quite repetitive! For most of my childhood, my family had to sit through my three hour Christmas concert. Before I learnt to write a program, I’d just make it up as I went along! They’d get involved then get up a leave eventually…good times…
You must be older than 14 because you said “the years” under some numbers…which would obviously mean more than one right? HAHA 😉
That was Jillian’s Christmas Eve job for many years – to write a play and get us all to sing carols. Went on for a number of years as well!
Yes definitely older than 14…at least 16 😉
I always find something under the tree addressed “To Lindy from Santy”. So don’t tell me there’s no Santy
well now we have proof. it’s not just me! Santa lives on!