It was the day before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was a stirring... except for me because it was garbage day.
For years, my Monday morning routine has been wake up, feed the dog, make a coffee, put the garbage and recycling out (they come at 7am), have a shower, and head to work. In 2012, Monday morning happened to be Christmas eve. Bleary eyed from drinks with the neighbors the night before, I brought my coffee into the garage, opened the door, and took the recycling bins and garbage can to the curb. There were two full black garbage bags in the garage as well, so I put a sticker on one (we are only allowed to put out two cans/bags per week, but also receive 12 stickers per year that allow for one extra per sticker), and brought both to the curb. I closed the garage door, finished my coffee, had a quick shower, and headed to work.
I came home at the end of the day, had dinner, helped my wife put the kids to bed, read to them, etc. As always, we told the kids not to leave their rooms or snoop around because Santa would know and wouldn't bring them any presents if they did.
Just like that, it was wine and Christmas stocking time. We give our kids presents from us, presents from the pets, and their stockings are usually overflowing with little toys, gadgets, and bigger wrapped gifts from Santa. I usually buy the "big" gifts for the kids, but leave the "Santa" stuff to my wife. Anyway, I brought the wrapped presents from us/pets downstairs from where they were hidden, and put them under the tree, then sat down watching tv while my wife took care of the stockings.
I started dozing off when my wife woke me up asking, "Where are the stocking stuffers?"
Me: "What do you mean?"
Wife: "They were in the garage in a black garbage bag but now I can't find them. I had them wrapped and everything."
Me: "Jesus, you must be blind." (Or something similarly disparaging, I'm sure.)
I went to the garage to retrieve the presents, perturbed that I had to end what seemed like a pretty good napping session. As soon as I opened the door, my stomach dropped. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I suddenly realized exactly what had happened. The best way to hide things from our kids was to hide them out in the open, such as in a black garbage bag in the garage. I had started that "tradition" myself a few years earlier. And in my early-morning-hangover-state, I had thrown away all the kids' "Santa" stuff.
Since it was Christmas Eve, every store was long since closed, except for 7-11. And that's why 2012 is remembered by my kids as the year Santa brought nothing but shit-loads of candy and scratch-and-win lottery tickets.
TL;DR: I accidentally threw away all of my kids' "Santa" presents and stocking stuffers on Christmas Eve, so had to buy replacements at 7-11.
No comments:
Post a Comment