photo found on altruism in the morning
When I was in high school, a few days before Christmas, I secretly unwrapped a gift~navy blue, brooks brothers blazer....wore it out to a party, came home and re-wrapped it {my brother's idea} To know what was in the box, tells the obvious. I was a peeker. I've been a peeker from way back. I can still tell you where some of my friends' parents hid the Christmas gifts:
With the notion that peekers beget little peekers, I've spent the last month, stashing gifts in the most obscure places. Now, a few days before Christmas, like a squirrel trying to remember where she's hid her nut, I'm digging frantically...trying to remember and having little luck.
The Flatleys: the old root cellar in the basement
The Meyers: back of their mother's closet
The Bayers: the sewing room
The Meyers: back of their mother's closet
The Bayers: the sewing room
Because not only was I a peeker, but I encouraged others to do the same. Even when it was met with trepidation from my friends~ I pushed and cajoled. It's a wonder that I never stumbled across a lump of coal with my name on it.
With the notion that peekers beget little peekers, I've spent the last month, stashing gifts in the most obscure places. Now, a few days before Christmas, like a squirrel trying to remember where she's hid her nut, I'm digging frantically...trying to remember and having little luck.
Merry Christmas to you too, Aunt Karma.
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