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I guess the best Christmas I ever remember is when I was about eight years old. During Thanksgiving we got the big Christmas catalog from Sears. I haven't seen one of those for years. This catalog had every toy known to man, or at least that's what my brother and I thought. We were only two years apart in age, and we used to argue about everything. We even argued over which toys were the best.

That year, which was 1978, we both wanted new bicycles for Christmas. We lay on the floor with that catalog for hours looking at all the different toys and games. There were Hot Wheels race car tracks and G. I. Joe action figures, which were fine choices, but the best things in the whole catalog were the bicycles.
The bicycles we had picked out were the sharpest looking bikes, with a pretty sharp price I might add. The one I wanted was a Huffy that was black with lots of chrome; the one that my brother wanted was an American Flyer, and it was solid red. For some reason he always had to be totally different from me. Even now we are still the same. I like Chevrolet and he likes Dodge, I like Auburn and he likes Alabama.
Now came the time to tell our parents what we wanted. We were both nervous because the bicycles cost so much. We weren't a poor family, but we weren't rich either. Our parents both worked and taught us the value of a dollar as we grew up. At supper that night, we got the book out and showed them what we wanted. Our Dad, after seeing the price, just moaned. This was a bad sign. Picking up on this, our Mom asked if there was anything else we might want. This was another bad sign.
After supper, my brother and I got back down on the floor with the catalog and picked out different things that were a little cheaper. My brother pointed to the Rock'em Sock'em Robots while I had my eye on the Electric Football Set. We were a little let-down at not getting those bicycles, but after Mom and Dad explained that we should not always expect to get what we want, we understood. We were still excited about Christmas anyway. Kids are always excited about Christmas no matter what they get. I think it's the ripping of the wrapping paper, not knowing what's underneath. People usually get what they want for Christmas, but first there is that box with your name on it, and you don't have a clue about what it is. That is the excitement of Christmas.
Christmas morning came, FINALLY. My brother and I were up at 4:30 am that morning. "You have never gotten up that early to go to school,"

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