My father was often out of town on business. It was these special nights that I would curl up in my mom's lush bed and get to sleep next to her. She would tuck me in and go downstairs and inevitably start the daily vacuuming (my mom's one true obsessive quality that luckily did not carry over to me). In years past I was able to shut out the call of the closet. But at age six it began to really get to me. Just one peak won't hurt. With all the vacuum noise mom would surely not hear me get out of bed.
I crept to the closet with my heart pounding. I opened the door slowly expecting to reveal My Little Pony heaven but disappointingly finding mom and dad's boring clothes and... wait a minute Toys R Us bags. The next few seconds were a blur while morally I made the decision to be on the naughty list. My eyes grow wide upon looking into the bag and there she is. The red headed Cabbage Patch Doll with a purple jumper!! She has to be mine. There are boxes of Micro Machines for my brother that make a perfect backdrop for my doll. I take her out give her a kiss and run back to bed.
Now I would like to tell you that this was the only time I snuck in the closet. From that night on, however, every night I would go visit my doll. Letting her know that Christmas was coming soon and she need not be scared of the dark closet. Each time I put her back exactly as I found her, my little Christmas secret.
Christmas morning finally came and my brother and I were up before dawn surveying the gifts under the tree. There were always two piles. The gifts from my parents, and the wonky wrapped presents from Santa. Yes, there were even presents for me from Santa. Clearly, he had forgiven my sneaky spying and understood I was just taking care of my dolly.
My mom has her coffee and the gift opening finally starts. I go straight for their gifts. Santa and his elves are great and all, but I know mom got me the ginger doll. I'm tearing through the paper and to the last present from the parents and it's a..... Easy Bake Oven.. Wait! Where is my doll.
There must of been a flicker of sadness in my eyes as my mom passes me a gift from Santa. I know that I cant express my sadness because in doing so would be admitting to poking through the closet. I'm unwrapping Santa's gift and there she is. Amazing!! Together at last ... But wait
"Mom this is from Santa?"
"Yes Pooh Bear he obviously knew you love your dolls"
"But Santa only delivers gifts on Christmas Eve"
"Yup. That's part of the magic"
"Well did he drop this off early for me?"
I still believed in the magic of Santa for a few years after this, and choose not to put the pieces together. However, I never snuck in to the closet again.
