Well, I wish I was out and about but I'm stuck here working....
Anyway my Christmas story happened when I was about 7 or 8 yrs old. Dad had an old tape recorder and he used to tape Christmas morning present opening every year. Those precious tapes are still stored in Mom's basement.
Anyway we were not poor but we weren't rich either. We always had food on the table and a few presents under the tree. That year Dad had a talk with us that Santa may not bring everything we wanted but he would make sure that Santa would leave at least one thing under the tree. That made me sad because the only thing I wanted was a baby buggy for my dolly. I hope and prayed for weeks that it would be sitting under the tree.
That morning, it was under the tree and I ran into the living room screaming "My baby buggy, my baby buggy!!!!! Santa brought me my baby buggy!!!!" I remember that moment to this day and a few years ago I listened to it on tape. I protected that baby buggy for years and in it was my precious Betsy Wetsy doll.
So that's it. Not very funny or interesting, but it's MY story.
Can I please get a Spanish Coffee???
Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, champagne in one hand and strawberries in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and screaming WOO HOO - What a Ride!
--unknown
Sometimes the most real things in the world are the things we can't see
--Polar Express
Until one has loved an animal, part of their soul remains unawakened.
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