Mom and Dad went all out for Christmas. They used to stay up all night Christmas Eve to wrap presents and place them under the tree. Like so many parents everywhere, they even made sure to take a bite out of at least one of Santa's cookies. Then they'd sleep late on Christmas morning (to torment us, of course--certainly not because they were truly exhausted). Finally, after taking their time getting ready, they'd let us open one gift before breakfast. After a l-o-o-o-n-g meal, they'd give us permission to unwrap the rest of our packages. 

One year Sandee and I got up early, as usual. We tried to rouse Mom and Dad, as usual. We failed, as usual. We did this repeatedly, of course. Then we decided to go ahead and open one present before breakfast. We once again tried to awaken Mom and Dad. We failed. We padded back into the living room. One more present wouldn't hurt. (We justified this.) Then two. (We convinced ourselves it would really be okay.) Then, well, three. 

You can guess what happened next. Only it was worse than that. Not only did we open all of our presents--we opened everyone else's. Every single package under the tree. Wrapping paper everywhere--cards lost in the rubble. Yup. We were in big trouble. Grounded. No gifts. No TV. No fun at all.

The following Christmas morning, Sandee and I awoke early. We tried to rouse Mom & Dad and failed. We padded into the living room. To our horror--not a single present was under the tree. Not. One.

Mom & Dad said nothing as they fixed breakfast. (That might not be true--they probably lectured us). Then, as the morning progressed, the mood changed. They told us to look closely at the ornaments. That was when we noticed the strings. And the little notes.

Our amazing parents had hidden our presents all around the house--with strings attached--and clues. Colorfully wrapped gifts were behind the couch, under tables and chairs, even in the fireplace. It took us the entire day to learn some big lessons: Appreciation. Patience. The importance of letting parents sleep in, especially on Christmas morning.

Thank you, Mom and Dad, for all your teachable moments. Thank you for all your love. Thank you with all my heart. You both mean the world to me.

I remember Grandma and Grandpa telling this story about their beloved brindle boxer, Brindy. I understand she joined the family in June 1953, when they moved to Downey, CA. I hope I have the details right...

While the White family was at school and work, Brindy would jump the back yard fence to play with the neighborhood children. Then she would return to the front porch to greet everyone when they returned home. After being scolded for this, she learned to greet them in the back yard instead.

They were none the wiser until one day when she was inside with the family all day. The neighborhood children came knocking on their door, asking, "Can Brindy come out and play?"

Les tried to catch her in the act by pretending to leave and then sneaking over to a hole in the fence to spy on her. What he saw in the hole was a large eye, looking back at him!