As a particular annual holiday approaches, I thought I’d write a little series on Christmas traditions from my past and my present.
I say “I thought I’d write”, it was actually a suggestion from my wife, as I was not having any ideas congeal into a suitable post topic this evening. So, many thanks to my wonderful wife.
When we were kids, my sister and I would get up early on Christmas Day, and on birthdays, and climb into my parents’ bed. I’ve got a feeling that sometimes we opened our stockings there, but my memory is vaguer on that point. I also think that sometimes the radio would be on, I seem to recall listening to the 25th Anniversary episode of I’m Sorry I’ll Read That Again (which was broadcast on Christmas Day).
I think that this may be why I tolerate the older kids in bed better than my wife does. They don’t join us often, and it can be tricky to keep them quiet enough and not-wriggly enough to not disturb everyone.