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Aidan - Christmas
He didn’t believeSanta Claus brought him gifts, not after that Christmas Eve three years ago when he had walked in on his dad placing boxes wrapped in bright red and gold paper under their tree. That didn’t mean Christmas mornings had lost their magic. When he pressed his nose to the cold glass pane in his bedroom window, Aidan squealed and dashed to the heavy wooden door. Swinging it open, he ran down the carpeted corridor, ignoring the oil paintings, and barely avoiding knocking down a couple of potted plants on their high stonepedestals.
“White Christmas! We’ve gotsnow!”
“What’s this raucous all about?” Aidan darted past his dad, swerving to escape his outstretched hands. “Hey, don’t I get a Merry Christmashug?”
“Busy!Later!”
Skipping every other step, Aidan conquered the two-story worth of stairs, and was out of the door, inseconds.
“Don’t forget your jacket.” His mom’s words made him turn tail and reach inside the coat closet, before rushing outsideagain.
He didn’t bother with a hat, the heavy windbreaker had a wool lined hood, and he chose not to wear gloves because he wanted to feel the snow melting on his palms. There wasn’t enough of it to make a snowman, so he went for the next best thing. Snowballs. Tons of them. And if he knew his parents well, he would need all the ammunition he could gather before they caught up withhim.
Aidan kept a watchful eye on the front door as to avoid being caught by surprise by his mom and dad. Last time they had snow, Tim and Joan buried the boy in the frozen white powder before he could throw his first ball. A dry creak on the snow behind him gave his parents away. They must have gone out through the backyard door and around the house. Aidan spun around to face them, but didn’t duck fast enough. The burgundy on the breast of his coat got covered in white spots, when a snowball thrown by his mom hit him. The white turned into dark stains as the snow meltedfast.
Screeching, he returned fire and hurled his snowballs in the general direction of his parents. If only he could see past the white curtain of flakes raining down on him, a result of Tim and Joan’s coordinated attacks. His dad’s guffaws, and his mom’s snorts helped Aidan aim his shots, but he had no idea how effective theywere.
His high-pitched shriek rang through their front lawn and garden, when his dad shoved a handful of snow down his back, the tiny rivers of icy water raised goosebumps on his skin all the way to hisbutt.
Aidansurrendered.
“Truce!” Raising his hands, out of breath, he knelt on the snow, giggling. “Please, no more. I don’t want to spend Christmas in bed with a fever andcold.”
His mom’s laughter mirrored his. “Tim, I’m glad someone does the adulting thing in thisfamily.”
“Yep, and it’s not us.” His father plopped himself on the ground beside Aidan, laced hands nestling his head, his eyes piercing theclouds.
Aidan followed his dad’s lead and lay down to watch the sky. His mom flanked him on the other side. After a brief, silent contemplation, her chest rumbled, but she didn’t share the joke withthem.
His father caved in first. “What?”
“I’m glad our nearest neighbor lives over half-a-mile away. If not, they would be calling the cops on us right about now for assaulting ourchild.”
“That is so true.” His dad turned his head to watch Aidan, who pretended the clouds held mesmerizing secrets, and kept staring atthem.
His dad braced himself on an arm and kissed his cheek. His mom followed suit kissing his opposite cheek and, before he knew it, he was snowed under tons of love and affection. “Stop, stop.” He half giggled, half begged. “You guys are ruining my toughact.”
“Sorry. I can’t help it. Too much cuteness,” his mom retorted, as she proceeded to ticklehim.
Aidan wasdoomed.
He wiggled his way out of his parents gripping hands and tickling fingers, to escape to the safety of their home. He was shaking the snow off his coat, when his parents joinedhim.
“If you two go ahead and change into dry clothes, I’ll get a nice, warm breakfast ready when you come down again. How does thatsound?”
“Perfect,” Aidan and his momreplied.
Aidan’ssmall family took their time consuming their Christmas breakfast, stuffed with soft soda bread, fresh scrambled eggs, a board of mouth-watering cheese, and fragrant smoked salmon. The delicious food distracted Aidan from craving the boxes stacked under the living-room Christmas tree. Once the meal was over, he helped his mom put the dirty dishes in the sink for the housekeeper to take care of in the following day. Then, the allure of the paper wrapped volumes returned to his mind with fullforce.
“Could we do the presentsnow?”
“Sure, why not? I was planning to wait until lunch, but go ahead.” His father had to shout the second sentence to beheard.
Aidan had already crossed the intimate dining-room, the entrance hall, and was kneeling by the tree. He waited until his parents joined him, so they would distribute the packages. His grandparents on his mom’s side had passed away before he was born. She had only one sister, who had married an American and moved to Wyoming. They rarely flew over for the holidays. His paternal grandparents, uncles and aunts would join them after lunch, but their gifts had preceded them, surrounding Aidan with multiple sets of building blocks and a couple of pogo sticks. However, the present that lit up his eyes was a robot dog his Uncle Jerry had bought forhim.
