“Christmas is a stocking stuffed with sugary goodness.”
Christmas eve we would hang our stockings for Santa to put little surprises in. They weren’t those big fancy stockings they were our own socks, the ones we actually wore. We didn’t have a fireplace mantel so we hung our socks on our bedroom door knobs and when we moved to a bigger house they were hung on the stair rail. I thought I was quite smart the year I hung up one of my knee socks. But Santa was too smart for me and he filled up the extra space with scrunched up newspaper.
Christmas morning we would dig in those socks to see what goodies we would find.
There would be a small toy when we were little and some small gadget when we were older. There would be new socks and maybe a comic book. When we were older there was perfume for me and cologne for my brothers. Yes, there was sugary goodness, too. Chocolate and peppermint candy, peanuts and bubble gum. In the toe of the sock there was always an onion. Just to remind us we weren’t that good.
The Christmas stocking is my favorite memory of Christmas morning. It reminds me of my mother’s love and humor. We were often at odds. My temper would flare and she would put on her pea mouth and give me the silent treatment but there was always something like that silly onion in the sock that let me know she loved me in spite of our differences.
I miss my Ma. Especially on Christmas morning.