There goes Santa Claus

I originally wrote this in 2007. It is worth a reprint.
Some of our most vivid memories are of childhood events. We old codgers may not be able to remember what we had for breakfast, but can recall every detail of our first Christmas concert.
At my first, I was a bumblebee. We each had cardboard cut-outs we coloured black and yellow ourselves. We held them up in up in front of us and danced in a line across the stage.
It was exciting.
Half-way through the song, I remember grabbing myself and promptly peeing my pants. The appreciation of this performance was startling—the attendant roar of laughter and applause was deafening.
It was like yesterday. Hmmmm, what’s that dampness? Maybe it was. . . .
Marlin Cowser of Colorado, and a part-time resident of Morley, was relating his most memorable childhood Christmas memory:
As a small child on the farm, my father and grandfather were always up early and out to the barn to milk the cows. Christmas morning was no exception and I remember one Christmas like it was yesterday.
Some cattle had broken out of the barnyard and, like a bunch of rambunctious kids on a spree, had run up by the house knocking a couple pickets off the fence while jumping it, tore across the fresh snow of the front yard, and escaped into the field.
Grandpa and Dad routinely had got them back into the barnyard, but then Grandpa rushed back in the house—delivering the exciting news to the grandkids.
“Quick, Santa Claus and his reindeer just crossed the front yard! You can see their tracks and where they hit the fence.
“And if you hurry, you might still be able to see them going across the field!” he exclaimed.
In bare feet and pyjamas, we all rushed out into the snow and sure enough, there were the fresh tracks and damaged fence.
To this day, I am absolutely certain we all glimpsed the team, sleigh, and driver disappearing over the last hill.
Hope your Christmas is happy and you receive a few nuts in your stocking.
See you in ’14!

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