December 1989: Kelley was almost 7 years old. I was approximately 18 months old, decked out with thick blondish hair (in a bowl naturally), and a Santa Claus romper. Kelley was wearing a Christmas vest decked out with Christmas lights and black straight leg jeans that she donned EVERY Christmas. And Dad had the video camera. Let's make this clear: Kelley did not appreciate the fact that I was the new one in the house, and therefore everyone was always taking videos of me. So to gain the camera time that she truly deserved, Kelley decided to perform what was, in her mind, several different versions of Jingle Bells. There was a jazzy version, a country version, a salsa version, etc. Yet somehow, each version sounded exactly the same. And each time Dad would try to sneakily cut the camera to my smiling face banging on an inanimate object, Kelley would promptly remind him that it was her performance. After her "Variations on Jingle Bells", she then performed a selection from "The Little Drummer Boy". We all know that one. And as she sang with such emotion, the words "Parumpumpumpum" came up, and Kelley added a genuine and almost provocative 7 year old body roll. This is still the best Christmas video we have to date.
December 1993: Dad and Mom were putting out the presents while we were sleeping on Christmas eve. All I wanted that year were black boots, Snow White underdrawers, and a doll that looked at you and talked. And because my parents are wonderful, they got me all three. Dad put out the boots and the drawers, and then he unpackaged the doll that talked. It was a really cute doll with blonde pigtails and a pink dress on. And as he set the doll down in its proper place, its eyes opened and said "TALK TO ME DADDY". Dad threw it across the room and screamed that it was a "devil doll". Needless to say, that doll didn't get played with very much. It spent a lot of time in the closet.
December 1995: I was cast as "Little Bell" in the First Presbyterian Church's elementary Christmas program. This was the main part, may I add. The show was about bells....in a church I guess....I'm not really sure. The point is, I was the "ugly" bell....but little did they know that I was the bell around the sheep's neck...the sheep that was right next to the BABY JESUS when he was born! BOOYAH! This role came with four solos....and I'd like to say that I nailed it. I also nailed the part of the show where I had to constantly ring a bell under my costume....which was a trashbag.
Skip ahead a few years
December 2003: I was 15 years old. I had gotten my permit in August and was going to get my license the following February. So naturally, all I wanted for Christmas was a Red automatic Volkswagen beetle. I talked about nothing else. I told my parents probably four times a day every day for around five months. (All Kelley wanted was a light up tiara and a baton for Christmas. This will come in handy later in the story). Christmas eve came and I was tingling with excitement. I just KNEW I was going to get my bug. We began opening a few presents that evening like we always do, and one of my presents was a toy Volkswagen beetle painted with red fingernail polish. I looked at Kelley and said "What is this?" And my Dad looked at me with a disappointed face and said, "Taylor I'm sorry, but we just couldn't do the whole car thing this year. We're going to try next year, but for now, this will have to do." I was crushed. I mean, I put on a smile and tried to pretend like I was having fun, but let's face it, I was pissed. I went to sleep that night and dreaded the next morning when I had to wake up and find out there would be no car outside. But I did it. I woke up and quietly opened up my presents. Kelley got her light up tiara and baton. And then they handed me a few gifts. One was a piece of paper with the VW logo. One was a car sticker. And one was a bouquet of fake flowers. I was livid. What a cruel joke. Why would they just rub it in my face that I wouldn't get my car. It was awful. And then my brother in law looked and said "Taylor, there's one more present".....and he threw me a set of keys. Well, Kelley immediately stood up and started singing "Stars and Stripes forever" with her light up tiara and was twirling her baton. As I pushed people out of the way and started running to the door, Kelley went out in front of me to lead the parade with her baton, but ended up falling on the sidewalk. Without any regard to her, I jumped over her and jumped on my beautiful new red automatic Volkswagen beetle. We both got what we wanted. It was an AWESOME Christmas.
December 2005: Dad's birthday is December 17th! I was a senior in high school, and I wanted to do something "special" for his big day. It just so happened that the evening of his birthday fell on the night of the City of Clinton Christmas party. So I knew that he and Mom would be gone all night. So....I decided to become Clark Griswold and give him the Christmas decorations that our house deserved. Reinforcements (the Heffas) were called in and Operation Nightbright ensued. We were all black, smeared war paint on our faces, and got down to business. It was absurd. There were lights ALL over the house, the cars, the trees, the lawn. And not ONLY did we have a blow up Santa Claus, we had a light up manger scene, complete with Mary, Joseph, the baby Jesus, and the three wisemen (eventhough the three wise men were all spread out over the yard, including up in a tree, because we didn't have enough electrical outlets). When Mom and Dad came home, we had it perfectly timed out. It was completely dark when they pulled up, and then as they got out of the car, we turned on the switch....and literally the house buzzed. I mean....it's probably not what Dad had wanted for his birthday....but oh well! MERRY CHRISTMAS DAD!
December 2005: Christmas Eve. Every year since 6th grade, I had taken part in the youth group's nativity scene. I had played virtually every part. May times, I played a shepherd which I loved because you got to stand by the fire and basically do nothing. I was a wise man (Ms. Jean called it a wise"person") a couple of times, which was fun because the costumes has glitter on them, but was tough because we had to walk to Mary with a spotlight directly in our eyes. One year, I was the Angel of the Lord so I got to stand on top of the scaffolding above all the other angels. I was pumped, but when I realized how high up I was, I froze. I know I wasn't as heavenly as I should have looked, but I was terrified. But my senior year, I got my big break. I was going to get to play Mary, the mother of Jesus, in the Christmas Eve nativity scene. I was ecstatic. I walked out to our makeshift stable holding my baby doll with one eye missing and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger. What was REALLY cool about our nativity scene was the we had live animals: two sheep and a donkey. This donkey is always notorious for making loud noises and bucking at people, and one time the sheep tried to hang itself, but I knew this year wasn't the year. As I sat in the stable looking out into the crowd angelically, the donkey starting making its noises. I looked at it, furious that it was stealing my limelight. After a few seconds, it stopped. But then, as the choir began singing "The First Noel", a nightmare at the manger occurred. The donkey started pooping everywhere. I mean, everywhere. I felt mortified, but I was trying my best to stay in character. I looked over, and my Joseph was doubled over laughing. You could hear the crowd start giggling and murmuring, and there I was, holding the baby Jesus, giving death glances to Joseph, and watching the ass poop all over the manger scene.
This is why I love Christmas. You can't make stuff like this up. You simply can't beat Christmas stories. And that's why I love Christmas.
So friends, God only knows what will happen this Christmas. So be sure to stay tuned for more Christmas stories in January. I'm sure there will be plenty. Until then, have a Merry Christmas and enjoy being with your family (eventhough most families are a little cray cray).
And for now, at least we can be thankful that we're not this guy:
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