Why My Mother Doesn't Trust Me around Christmas Presents

The year was 1995.  It was two weeks before Christmas, and I was a junior in high school.  I came home early from practice on Wednesday night, and my mom and brother were at church.  It was just me and my dad at home for the rest of the evening.

I walked by the Christmas tree, when I spotted it.  THE gift.  The gift that I'd wanted way worse than little Ralphie wanted an Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle!

By the shape of the box, I knew what I was getting.  I looked around to make sure my dad wasn't looking, and then I gently lifted the box.  Yep.  It was the precise weight and feel.  I felt my heart jump. I could hardly contain myself!  Here's what I knew was inside:

Photo from Amazon.com

It was the George Strait Box Set. Seventy two of the greatest songs George had ever sang.  And it was mine, all mine!  But TWO whole weeks...I couldn't wait that long to open it.

That's when I got a BRILLIANT idea!  I approached my dad who was sitting in his recliner.

"Dad, I've got a BRILLIANT idea!"

"What's that?"

"Under the Christmas tree, I've spotted an amazing gift.  I know for a fact that my George Strait box set is under there."

 "How do you know?"

"Dad, I've dreamed of this box set for months now.  I look it over every time I go to the store.  I'm sure of it! It's the exact shape and size. Anyway, I was thinking...Do you want to listen to it while Mom's gone?  She'll never know!"

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea!"

And right then and there I began to perform a "gift extraction" with the precise movements of a surgeon.  I held my breath as I, ever so gently, unfastened the tape without ripping the paper.  It was a beautiful job, if I do say so myself.  The box was finally unwrapped.

What took place next, was two hours of the best George Strait music booming from the speakers of my parent's living room.  My dad and I sang along to every tune, previewing all  four discs and all 72 songs while we used two remote controls as makeshift microphones.  For the encore, we reclined our rockers, as we belted out "The Chair".....

♪♫"Well excuse me, but I think you've got my chair... No, that one's not taken...I don't mind if you sit there...I'd be glad to share...♪♫


After the song was over, I had approximately 4 minutes and 25 seconds before my mom and brother would be home.  I carefully put each CD back into the box, slipped the plastic wrap back over it, and slid it back into the wrapping paper.  I reattached the tape, and placed the gift in the exact spot I'd found it in just as I heard the garage door open.

My dad and I tried to wipe the grins off our faces while my mom entered the door.  Mission accomplished.

Fast forward two weeks.

It was Christmas, and my dad was passing out gifts for us to unwrap.  He gave me "the gift".

I gave an Oscar worthy performance of shock and surprise when I opened it.  My mom asked, "Do you like it?"

"Like it? I LOVE it!", I said.

Then it happened.

My dad caved in.  He started cracking up!

I gave him "the look".  You know, the one that says, shut up dad ,or she'll know our little secret.

My mom looked at him and said, "What's so funny?"

"Oh nothing."

"What?  Tell me what's so funny?"

(This is the part where my Dad blew it for the rest of my Christmas life!)

"Your daughter opened the gift and we listened to the whole thing two weeks ago, and then wrapped it back up and put it back under the tree so you wouldn't know."

What happened next was a blur.  Something about trust, and honesty, and blah, blah, blah...

All I could think about was how my own dad ratted me out.  He enjoyed the music, and then snitched on me. Ensuring that, never again in my life would my mother trust me around my Christmas presents.

I may have experienced my mother's wrath, but it WAS worth every second of it! I'd do it again in a heartbeat to hear the sound of my George....Strait out of the box!