Tuesday, December 08, 2009

Greatest Gift Rerun

Every holiday season I am always amazed at how my parents could pull off Christmas. There were 9 kids. That’s a lot of presents for Santa to deliver.

Christmas morning was always a whirlwind in our house. The night before, my parents would arrange the gifts in piles under the tree with each of our names on our designated pile (We still, to this day, joke about who had the biggest piles of gifts, FYI- Jimmy). We would all come down the stairs at the same time, sit in front of our pile and my parents while sipping their coffee and tea watched all of us open our gifts at the same time. There were 11 of us in a small family room tripping over each other to see what Santa brought for us.

I always tried to keep my wish list reasonable after I found out that my parents were acting as Santa’s agents. I knew they had a lot of mouths to feed and they always did their best to provide us with nice Christmas gifts. But one year, the only thing I wanted cost $60.00. I was willing to fore go all other gifts if I could just have this one thing.

You see, in 1982 I was 12 and I thought I was a budding comic book artist. The only piece of equipment I would need, to be the next Jack Kirby, was a drawing table. I knew that sixty bucks was lot of money at that time. I did not have high hopes of getting the table because I also knew that I needed socks, gloves, a hat and probably a new pair of Tough Skins.

When I came down to the tree that Christmas Morning, I noticed that there were a few gift boxes with my name on them. I was a little saddened that there was no table waiting under the tree but I knew that it was a lot of money and understood that things were tight. I opened the few gifts (gloves and socks) that I received and I sat and watched everyone else open their much bigger piles. I guess I would have to wait to create the next Spiderman.

As I sat and listened to my brothers “Ooohing and Ahhing” over their gifts I heard my mother, not raising her voice or anything but just a normal tone, say “Bill.”

I turned to look at her (and I know this sounds totally cheesy, but I will never forget the smile on her face) she smiled and nodded her head towards the back wall. I followed her eyes. There it was, a giant box, leaning against the back door. I jumped up and ran over. I tried picking the box up but it was too heavy. I spun it around so I could look at the picture on the front. A drawing table.

I was ecstatic. I turned around and looked at my mom. She had a devilish grin on her face. I guess the table was not with my pile of gifts because it was so big. I also think that my mom wanted to see my reaction to actually getting the gift. With so many kids opening gifts at the same time I am sure it was difficult to see everyone. Or maybe she was just letting me sweat it out.

I never did become a great comic book artist. The only drawing I do now is MooneyAngelo stuff. I kept that table until I was 27. It is still one of my favorite gifts. Ever.


This was originally posted on 12-5-05. (thanks Sci Fi Dad for seeing the date error.)

13 comments:

eclectic said...

Awesome. Truly.

Melanie said...

i love this.

SciFi Dad said...

Very cute and inspiring story. However...

You're re-running a post from 3 days ago?

Maybe your mother should have forgone the table and gotten you a calendar.

Denise @ Sunflowers, Chocolate and Little Boys said...

Awesome....I loved it.

Susie said...

What a wonderful story. This helps kick my Christmas spirit in gear. I went back to the first posting of it, just so I'd be careful not to repeat my old comment. I didn't comment on the first one! Either I missed it or I was too verklempt. I suspect the latter. However, when I looked back there, I did think this might bear an encore posting as well:

Anonymous lawnwhisperer said...

I am a tad bit dissapointed in the direction that the Poop and Boogies Blog has taken. You see, I am a huge fan of this blog, and find William to be a good and funny writer, but I see a strange pattern developing.

I am afraid that I must say, that I believe Bill is using this blog strictly as an ass-kissing platform. Some writers use their skills for political gain. Some take their talents and use them as a platform for certain views and opinions. Bill is using this website as a pure attempt to unseat Jimmy as the favorite son.

I may have to boycott the site. Bill, mom loves you whether you kiss her ass or not. It is called unconditional love. I operate under this very premise everyday. She has to love us, she is our mother. You my friend are an M B K-er. That's right, a Mother Butt Kisser.

for a different kind of girl said...

Love this. It's wonderful how these types of memories remain and brighten the magic of the season.

Anonymous said...

The Lawn Whisperer is back! I'm lovin' it! Now let's hear your Chritmas story, L.W.

Anonymous said...

One time our parents forgot to get the lawn whisperer any presents for Christmas. When they noticed, my dad took him outside and pointed to the weedwacker and lawnmower and told him thats what Santa got him.

Anonymous said...

Susie totally blogjacked you.

eclectic said...

Here's the thing: I asked in my comment on the original post, "Why don't you still have the table?" and here, 4 years later, you STILL haven't answered. Am I going to have to go all ninja on you?

Anonymous said...

What about the Christmas where the Viper got the third nipple hair trimmer. That brings a tear to my eye.

Lela said...

This one made me cry. Thank you!

Annalisa said...

This was awesome. Thank you. These are the stories that you will carry with you throughout your entire life and pass them on to your children. You made me cry and I'm such a hardass... good job :o)

And your reference to Tough Skins took me back... to the 70's and Sears. :o) We all wore them. Even me and I'm a girl.

Have a good one...