Christmas Morning


Photo: Grown and Flown

As I bolt out of my room to wake the people in my house who are already behind schedule, my heart is beating with excitement and my smile is stretched from ear to ear. Every Christmas, I sit next to my brother at the top of the staircase to give my parents a chance to go downstairs first, make a cup of coffee, and then give us the okay to come down and see all of our presents for the first time. As I sit there, all I think about is that one gift.

“Okay,” shouts my dad from the kitchen.

I take the stairs two at a time and zoom into the living room. Presents upon presents flood the room. The possibility of it being here, in the same room as me, makes me want to rip through each and every package until I find it. But in this house, that’s not how it works. We go back and forth between my brother and I, alternating presents so that this process of tearing through the gifts is turned into an hour long event.

Don’t they understand the urgency here?

As my pile thins, and the only presents left are the small ones that fit into my palm, I accept that it’s not here. It is too big to fit in any of these boxes. 

When we finish cleaning up all the wrapping paper, my dad asks my brother to go into the dining room and get him a cookie. He leaves the room and a shout follows. We all rush in to follow him and as I enter the room I see that he has an extra special gift that was hidden for him, sitting on top of the cookies. Santa is always even between me and my brother.

There must be one hidden somewhere for me.

It has to be it. 

The house seems to grow two sizes as I look at every square inch to find my gift. It has to be here. The last place to look is the basement. As I practically fly down all the stairs to reach the bottom, I see it. Big. Square. Wrapped in my green wrapping paper. This is it. My fingers tear through the paper like it’s my last job. 

As I am greeted with the bright pink colors on the box my smile grows ten sizes bigger. This is it, the gift I have been waiting for. It is perfect. Santa knew exactly which I wanted and didn’t fail to deliver. I was just one step closer to being able to play for hours on end.

There was only one last thing to do: assemble my new Barbie Dream House.