My Funny Little Christmas Eve Story

When I was growing up, our family usually had their Christmas gift opening on Christmas Eve. The reason for this was we all got up on Christmas morning and drove the fifty miles out to my Grandparents ranch, north of Spokane. It was a really fun time, with all the relatives there, more presents, a big meal and lots of music.

The usual routine on Christmas Eve was for our Grandma Nana to come over, as she lived in Spokane, and after dinner the “Real Santa” would knock on the door and bring in a big bag of gifts for us kids, Scott, Carol and myself. He would hand out the gifts and admonish us not to open them up until our Dad had returned “from a last minute trip to the grocery store.” Sure enough, Dad shortly returned, having regretfully missed Santa, and we opened up the delivered presents.

As the oldest child in the family, I discovered before my younger siblings that the whole “grocery store” story was a hoax and it was really Dad that delivered the gifts on Christmas Eve. With this knowledge and a keen eye, I also discovered the “fake Santa suit” hidden in the basement.

From that point on, I pestered my Dad to let me play Santa on Christmas Eve … I wanted part of the fun, too! I think I was about ten or twelve years old when Dad finally okayed the deal and told me that I could dress up in the Santa Suit and deliver the gifts. Boy was I excited.

So, this Christmas Eve, we concocted the story that Roger had to make a last minute trip to a neighbor’s house to deliver “something.” Both Carol and Scott bought the story.

This year my big Christmas desire was for a vise! Yes, a vise … something that bolts to a workbench and holds things in place while being worked on. At this point in my life, I was an real tinkerer. (Come to think about it … I still am.) I spent hours and hours in my little workshop in the basement “inventing” things, so a real vise was an exceptionally valued gift to me.

On this particular year, after dinner on Christmas Eve, everyone was gathered, the “Roger errand story” was disseminated and little Santa was in the basement getting all dressed up, complete with a couple of pillows stuffed into the Santa Suit.

Dad gave me the Santa sack, with all the gifts in it … it seemed awfully heavy! I dragged it through the snow to the front door, rang the doorbell and “Ho-ho-ho’ed” my way into the living room. I can remember the wide-eyed look on Scott and Carol’s face … as they stared into the face of Santa! The ruse was absolutely perfect! (Or so it seemed to me!)

Carol or Scott said maybe we better wait for Roger to get back, but Dad assured them that he would be back shortly and we could just put his gifts aside, in case he got back after Santa left.

The gift handing out went quickly, as they were not being opened right them, but held until later. Toward the bottom of Santa’s sack was an awfully heavy package … real heavy. The tag read, “To Roger, from Santa.” No wonder the bag was so heavy! This was my vise! For me! I was so excited about my heavy package that I almost forgot about caring anymore about the rest of the gifts in the bag, I virtually tossed them out! I couldn't get out of the house and back into the basement fast enough! The suit came off in a rush and into a pile and I rushed back upstairs, “just back from my errand.” Breathlessly, I asked if I had missed Santa. I sensed that both Carol and Scott had figured out that things were not as them appeared. Many years later, Carol told me that “she knew all along” that it was me. Maybe she did - maybe she didn’t - I’m not betting either way.

That was the last year for Santa to deliver gifts in person on Christmas Eve. My Dad later told me that the old family Santa Suit was passed on to family friends with younger children. It was sure fun while it lasted!

Oh yes … it was a vise. Unlikely as it may seem, that vise was one of the most cherished Christmas presents I ever received. Oh, the stories that vise could tell: Sometime I’ll tell you about the gunpowder I made in my little basement workshop. In case I forget, ask me what happened when my Mom found the jar of gray powder in my shop and tossed it into the house heating furnace!