“Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more!”  ~Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas

There was nothing I enjoyed more than Christmas when My Three Sons were younger and all at home. We lived in my dream home, the farmhouse where The Sweetheart grew up, seven acres with a stocked pond full of catfish, partially wooded, high on a hill. It had the scariest concrete driveway for riding a bicycle that a boy could ever want and a great slope for sledding; just ask the neighbor boys who were always sneaking down it when we weren’t looking.

Christmas was special.

We had two Christmas trees, sometimes three. One in the family room, all dark and cozy with redwood paneling; that was the one room they wouldn’t let me touch when we remodeled. But that was okay, it was so homey and held so many memories for the family that we loved it. That tree was the one the boys decorated with the ornaments they had made, all of our family treasures. Oh, and colored lights, they insisted on colored lights on “their tree”.

Then the fancy one in the “pretty room” as they called it. That was my tree, they let me decorate it however I wanted and we would go from room to room opening presents. I cherish those days.

Now remember, if you have followed me for very long, I have mischievous boys. They were each about five and one half years apart. Kyle is the oldest, then Kristopher and then Korey is “the baby”, he is 29 today, happy birthday, Korey!

Boys will be boys and they would never leave their presents alone! I grew weary of them trying to figure out what was inside year after year and they always ruined the surprise.

So one year I outsmarted them all. I had it all figured out. I came up with a brainstorm and I was so proud of myself. I didn’t tell anyone, not even The Sweetheart. On Christmas morning I would show them!

I began wrapping presents as usual, several weeks in advance, and they would come home from school and always check to see if there were any under the tree. Sure enough, the first day they discovered their good fortune.

They ran and looked for their name. But wait! What to my wondering eyes should appear?! “This is not my name!” They all begin to holler. All of the presents had names like Dasher, Dancer, Prancer and Vixen. Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen! And do you recall? We can’t leave out the most famous reindeer of all…because we had to have three groups of three! Rudolph was included as well!

The only names on the presents were reindeer names.

The boys were NOT happy, they were not happy at all! They did not like it, not one little bit. How could they figure out what was inside if they didn’t know which one was theirs?

They had been tricked. Duped. By their own mother. What a Christmas this was going to be!

(Probably in big time trouble with this picture! Yikes! Check out The Sweetheart’s glasses! And my 90’s poofy curls! Gotta love church pictures…)

But thankfully they quickly forgave me and actually thought it was kind of funny as the season went on. They started telling their friends about it and everyone chimed in saying how much fun it was going to be on Christmas morning.

We always get up early on Christmas. It is a written rule if you have children under the age of 30 that you must get up at the crack of dawn on Christmas Day to open your presents. In your pajamas. Before you brush your teeth….well the kids think that anyway. Ugh. You get the picture, they are anxious.

We gather in “the pretty room” and they are waiting for me to give them the go-ahead to start passing out the presents. I run back upstairs to get my list. You know, the one that tells me who each reindeer represents? Yes, I DID make one, I am not that incompetent, people.

It went something like this:

Kyle: Donner, Dasher, Vixen

Kristopher: Rudolph, Comet, Prancer

Korey: Cupid, Dancer, Blitzen…

Or was it Kyle was Donner, Comet and Dancer and Kristopher was Cupid, Blitzen and Dasher?

Or…where is that list?

We have a problem…I could not find the list. I didn’t find the list. I never found the list.

I was no longer the Christmas Queen. I was the Christmas Dope.

What was a brilliant idea, and still is if you want to try it, turned into a free-for-all as My Three Sons, morphed into My Three Monsters and started ripping into presents like there was no tomorrow.

All the while The Sweetheart sat in the easy chair with the biggest grin on his face, as if to say, “If I had thought of this…”

Well you didn’t you big oaf…

It was a great idea.

Saving it for the grandkids.