My 17 Days of Christmas

I find it funny that many of the Christmas stories, poems and songs refer to "naughty or nice."  Do you think children have this running in the back of their mind during the year?  When, yesterday?  This week?  Whose rules of naughty or nice?

When we lived in Bossier City, Louisiana, our house was probably 900 sq. ft. with three bedrooms and one bathroom.  We were probably six, five and three (oh and Mike was maybe one).  We girls lived to torment our little brother, because we could.  We would pick and pick and we knew about when mom would say, "You just wait 'til daddy gets home".  We heard that a lot.  Well, one day the three of us were splish, splashing in the tub when daddy came in.  He probably asked if we had been good and when we said "yes, sir", he probably said he was told otherwise.  Then, no, oh my goodness, he spanked Cindy and she ran sobbing to the bedroom, wet and covering her little bum with her hands.  What, me too?  He spanked me and I, too, was sobbing.  I had to stay as Marcia was on the toilet, blocking me in and besides, I had to protect her.  (What?)  Daddy asked her to stand up and tried lifting her up.  Wait, was she permanently attached to the toilet now?  Her little hands gripped so tight on the toilet seat that when daddy tried to lift her, he lifted the seat as well.  Once, twice, three times - no way did she let go.  Thinking about it, I feel certain that daddy walked away laughing about that!  

Okay, Christmas that year we saw Santa in the mall, gave him our "Dear Santa" letters and he asked us if we were naughty or nice.  Now do you think we thought back and said, "Well, Santa, actually ..."  No!  We were probably very nice and very good - all week because we knew we would be going to see Santa.