The Year Daddy Cut Off Christmas

We been ascared ‘bout Christmas ever since the last big snow right before Thanksgiving. Teddy left the sled out in the driveway. It was the big present last Christmas. A one-for-all.

Daddy ran over it. “You think Santa leaves his sleigh out all night?” he hollered.

“That’s. It. For. Christmas!”

Daddy has the grumps most all year, but he gets happy at Christmas—after he stands the tree up perfect! Me and Teddy and my bossy older sister Julia get to help “at the bottom, now,” he warns. He puts Baby Jesus’ star at the top himself. But daddy didn’t cut no tree this year.

Can’t believe he’s cutting Christmas! Loves his trains so, you know? He makes us wait at the top of the stairs until he gets them rolling and tooting. He’s crazy for the horns. Teddy says, “That’s the lions ‘cause they’re Lionel trains.”

They’re Chiefs! Come from a faraway place called Santa Fe—real genuine Santa trains. But Daddy didn’t take the trains down from the attic this year.

I’ll sure miss the horns. Santa listens for them. That’s how he knows where our house is.

Day before Christmas, Teddy hid under the bed all day, only come out for supper. Kept his head down at the table ‘til Mommy said, “Now Teddy, don’t you know elves don’t like no hang-dog children at Christmas?”

Daddy glared. “It’s not too late, young man. Sit up.”

That gave me hope. I snuck a peek at Julia. She snapped me her “older sister” look, but quick looked at her fingers like as if she got a worm under her nails. She don’t take no chances with Daddy—specially at Christmas.

Mommy sent us to bed early.

I crawled in bed with Julia. She said, “Hush up, Rosie, and let me listen.”

Then we heard Daddy cussing.

Mommy said, “Now Rob, not on Christmas.”

“It’s not Christmas yet, for Christ’s Sake.”

I pulled the covers over my head and closed my eyes real tight

Next thing I know sunlight’s busting through the window with the ice froze on the inside. Christmas morning! I almost threw up.

“Are you children going to lallygag all day in bed? Get your behinds down here.” Daddy didn’t even make us wait at the top of the stairs, as usual. He roared, “Merry Christmas” and tooted the horns!

Gosh and Golly—horns! Teddy wet his jammies but raced down, me and Julia close behind “like a herd of elephants,” as Mommy always says.

In the living room sure enough—a great big tree with the star on the top, the Santa Fe Chiefs, whistles howling like tea kettles, racing around the tracks—and three bikes! Real two-wheelers, red for Julia, blue for me with training wheels, too, and green for Teddy with that funny bar boys’ bikes have.

Julia grinned and whispered in my ear. “Thought so. The mill’s been working double shifts and Daddy always cusses when he puts up the trains!”

L. N. Passmore

 

L. N. Passmore bids you to come visit Lisnafaer and her other green worlds.