I recall a christmas many years ago, we had gone to an aunt's for the usual christmas eve visit. There we were awaiting Dad to take us home in anticipation of Santa's arrival before next morning. Eventually Dad showed up much to late with more than a "few" under his belt. All 7 of us kids were cranky but happy to go home to receive our booty from the old fat guy. We approached our old little home town all 3 streets of it. We lived in a 3 roomed shack by today's standards over to the left on the main drag of that old wide spot in the road. All 9 of us in that little place. I was the oldest, sat right up there in the front as befitting my position in that little society. Low and behold, the old man turned of on the street to the right, much grumbling insued, Soon he turned in the yard of this large white mansion, decked out in Christmas lights, are rarity in those times. Mom and Dad got out and announced that we were going in. We whined collectively, no let's go home, don't wanna miss Santa you know, eventually it was announced that this was our new home, no more little yellow house. Here this man and his friends had worked all day, transferring all our possessions to this large 5 bedroom house, a big kitchen, living room, 4 bedrooms, and two, yes two, inside too, bathrooms. All that work and love. My younger siblings hit the pit as it was late for them. But I and my next sister a year younger than me worried for a short while if old St. Nick would ever be able to find us in this strange place. We soon drifted off to sleep in this big white house. Santa did show up of course.
Still miss you Dad. Santa wasn't half the man you were! I love you.
Merry Christmas people, regardless of what word or cultural norm you have for this season. There is good in all.