It's probably my first Christmas memory, and it's so vivid because I remember playing with the phone - that had a real ringtone! - at an insanely early hour of the day.
It got me thinking - as I frantically turned topics for this post over in my head - what Patrick's first Christmas memory will be. Mine was of playing with what was to become a much-loved toy (I thought that phone was the best thing ever - because it rang like a real phone) that had been delivered to me by the jolly old man from the North Pole.
Christmas - for me - is a jumble of impressions mostly: going with my Dad to choose presents for my mother and my sister; decorating the tree with the same ornaments year after year; going to midnight mass and having milo and cheese sandwiches afterwards; arguing over board games or card games with my brothers and sisters; turkey dinners in the middle of the afternoon and paper hats askew as the day wore on.
So I do treasure that first, clear memory, of playing with that toy in the middle of the night that was pretty much guaranteed to wake up my sisters, but it was just so magical and new, I couldn't help myself. And now that Patrick's three, I'm hoping that I (and Santa of course) can impart a little bit of that magic to him.
