A Proud Family Moment Captured On Camera

This is a picture—from quite a few years ago—of my brother Cam and I modeling underwear we had received as Christmas presents.

I can’t recall for sure but I think my mom may have taken this photo. It must have been an incredibly proud moment for a loving mother, huh?

The Christmas Present I Did Not Get

When I was 15 years old I was delighted to discover that two of my cousins, who were brothers, had received brand new shotguns as Christmas presents.  These cousins were aged 16 and 14.

I thought, “This is fantastic!  What a stroke of good fortune.  This clearly sets a precedent for the type of Christmas presents that can be expected within our larger family circle.”

I promptly informed my dad that I would love to get a shotgun for Christmas.

After he looked at me as if I had 3 heads and each of the three heads were illuminated with hair that was on fire, he said, “No, you can’t have a shotgun.”

I said, “Marcus and Thomas got shotguns for Christmas, this year.  I’m basically the same age they are, in fact, I’m older than Thomas.”

My dad said, “They live in rural Mississippi.  They have lots of wide open space and everybody hunts down there.  It’s a normal activity.  You live in Chicago.  I can’t have you walking around with a shotgun.”

I wanted to say, “Technically we live in the suburbs, not the city proper, and right across the street from our house is wide open forest preserve property which would be just perfect for some shotgun shooting.”  But a) I never talked back to my dad in that way, since I valued life; and b) it was beginning to dawn on me that my dad was not going to recognize this Christmas present precedent as applicable to our situation.  So, I didn’t say anything further about the shotgun request.

I got socks for Christmas, that year.

I put a couple of 12 gauge shells in the socks but I guess it’s no surprise that they didn’t fire.

The Christmas Presents Call

If there’s a wrapped present in the house the mystery of “what-could-it-be?” is more than Rachel can withstand.  The present calls, it teases, it beckons Rachel.  She tries to go about her business and think of other things but the present whispers, sparkles and winks. 

I can’t hear it.  You wouldn’t be able to hear it either.  But it’s tuned to a frequency that Rachel can hear and it says, “Wouldn’t you love to know…?  Open me and you can find out.”

Ultimately, it’s too much.  She’s only human, after all.  The wrapping paper is torn and the present is revealed.

If only the thrill of the present itself could match the thrill of the anticipation.