Santa on the Fire Truck

My favorite day of the year is Christmas Eve.  I love the anticipation that it holds!  Here at our house we have dinner and then, with whomever drops in that year, we wait impatiently for the first sound of the firetruck slowly going up and down the neighborhood streets with Santa sitting high on top waving to everyone below.  This year we had my mother in law, my younger daughter, Keri, and her roommate and her roommate's little girl, my older daughter, Kris, very sick little granddaughter, Natalie and MomMom in addition to my sons, my husband and I.  Full house!  Around 7pm we heard the first strains of the siren and if we stood at the front door and looked across the neighborhood we could just see Santa about 4 streets over, slowly gliding by on the top of his truck.  Squeals were heard all around (from some much older than 4 and 7 lol).  We passed the time and then heard him again.  Back to the door!  More squeals!  Finely, around 9pm, we heard him loud and clear.  Everyone grabbed coats and shoes and out the door we went!  Most of them piled into the back of our truck, waving and laughing.  And once again, for our eighteenth year, we watched as the fire truck crested the hill and there he was, adorned in his red and white fluffy suit, waving just for us.  The looks in the eyes of my youngest son was priceless and our friend's little girl was beside herself with excitement.  Everyone waves, no matter the age, and as they get to us the firefighters hand out candy canes and smile and chat and then Santa is upon us and he's looking down from way up high, surrounded in bright lights and he seems to be looking right at YOU and waving and saying Ho! Ho! Ho!.  Before you know it the truck is rounding the corner and everyone scurries to the side yard yelling for Santa and waving one last time.  It is absolutely, positively the very best ten minutes of the year :-)   Afterwards, company leaves and my children put on their new Pjs and gather on the sofa for Twas The Night Before Christmas.  My granddaughter was feeling well enough then to join us and I sat with a son on either side and a granddaughter trying to eat the pages while my daughter snapped pictures.  I read from the same book every year and I remember all the years when my two daughters and oldest son were small and then when the youngest came along.  We would all pile onto that sofa, squeezing together, and here that story.  Then it's bedtime for all "children" so the adults can do their thing.  For the past fifteen years my oldest has had a sleepover with her brother.  A few years ago they allowed their little brother to join.  This year, because the baby was sick and because my daughter had a husband to go home to, it was just the two boys and they slept in the oldest's bed, listening to Christmas carols on the radio and talking about whatever brothers talk about.  Whispering so maybe, just maybe, you might hear Santa when he comes to put all your presents under the tree.  Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!






Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Changes, COVID and Career

Senior Year

Last Week