Every year my brother and I get our sleeping bags and camp out in our parents room for the night. This year Neeraj wanted to watch a movie, so we camped out downstairs instead. Early this morning I hear some rustling and then there's Mom telling us to get up. Both Neeraj and I turn around and say we'll get up later.
"But Santa spent so much time at the mall and wrapping all the gifts," said Mom. Guilt-inducing as her voice was, Mom's tone brought to mind the image of an innocent child, head cocked sideways and eyes full of Christmas cheer. Oh how manipulative you mothers are. So droopy-eyed and drowsy (it was, after all, only 8:30 in the morning), Neeraj and I stumbled out of bed. By 9 a.m. (After I'd finally coaxed Neeraj out of my bed, which he dove into after heading upstairs to brush his teeth) we gathered around the tree and proceeded with the festivities.
It was a pretty good year, gift-wise. Three sweaters, a shirt, two pairs of earrings and a much-needed traveling cosmetic kit. And the best part - the day itself has gone well. Everyone has gotten along and we chatted with Nani Ma in India and Mamu's family in Luxembourg. Overall, it's been a good day and hopefully this good cheer will continue on into our New York trip. Speaking of which, Papa announced we're not taking a computer (!!) with us, so Overachiever will probably be silent for the next few days.
On that note, I bid you Merry Christmas and leave you with this letter to the editor appearing in today's Post:
I've had it with the fuss over whether to say "Happy Holidays" or "Merry Christmas." For 30 years, my mother phoned me every Dec. 25 at 7 a.m. to say "Merry Christmas!" I'd reply, "Mom, we're Jewish," to which she would say, "I know, but I love the holidays. And what's wrong with peace on Earth and goodwill toward men?" Mom is gone, but her words seem more meaningful than ever.
TRACY LEVERTON
Vienna
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