Copyright 2002 by Nicholas6996@hotmail.com
This is a fictional story, no elves or reindeer were injured in its creation. This story is of holiday giving between friends, young and old. If you don't like friendship, don't read it. If you don't like love, I'm sorry for you. If you are not old enough to legally read this, find your friend and have him read it to you. You can send me comments, but if you are one of those who like to send viruses to authors, it will be blocked and I will send your name to Santa as NOT NICE!
As I suspected, several of you are naughty boys, I hope Santa left you lumps of coal!
Several others have been very kind with Christmas wishes and I thank you for your generous praise.
For the rest of you, here's Part Three. Let me know if you want a Part Four!
Stocking Stuffer Part 3 Jingle Bells
Finding the box, I had a ball wrapping each individual item and placing them under the stockings. I found I was humming a little song as I addressed the tags: To Stephy from Santa! This was real fun!
Finishing and surveying my work, I was pleased with how it all looked. Looking at my angel asleep in the chair, I decided this was probably going to be my best Christmas ever.
Lifting Stevie, blanket and all, I took him to the bedroom and more or less unrolled him into the waterbed. Tucking the covers under his chin, I made my visit to the bathroom and undressed, crawling into the bed from the other side. As if he felt my presence, my sleeping little angel scooted over and draped himself across my body, cheek resting on my chest and right arm and leg stretched across me in a gentle hug.
"I love you," I whispered, as I kissed the top of his head.
"Mphhhh," was the only reply, but it was more than enough.
"Merry Christmas!" I thought, as I, too, went to dream land.
I woke first in the morning and found Stevie sprawled across the bed. He wasn't wrapped around me, but he did have one arm around my forearm. Prying myself gently free, I eased out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Finishing my business, I stopped and gazed at my sleeping Christmas Gift. He was so beautiful lying there.
I headed for the kitchen and began preparing a full breakfast of bacon and eggs. Coffee first, of course, then bacon sizzling and frying in the frying pan and toast in the toaster. Pretty quickly the kitchen and then the whole house was awash in those heavenly smells Stevie had gravitated to yesterday.
Sure enough, in just a few minutes my sweetie was stumbling into the kitchen rubbing his eyes and waving a morning boner around in front of himself wearing only my, or his, or I guess our Christmas stockings.
"Um, smells real good Nick," he yawned at me. "Do I have time to pee before we eat?"
"You better take time, Tiger. Looks like you're about to burst."
"Yeah," he giggled, looking down at his 4 inch rod. "I'll probably have to use pliers to bend it down enough to let it rip. Want to help?" he mischievously grinned and waved it provocatively at me.
"No, sweetie, as much as I might like to, the bacon would probably burn before we got done."
"Don't let that happen!" he cried. "I don't ever get enough bacon, you can't waste any!" and he scampered off to the bathroom.
When he returned the table was set and with an "I'm starved!" he inhaled a half dozen bacon strips, three eggs and two pieces of toast, washing it all down with a large OJ and a mug of cocoa. I'd barely started my own breakfast as he sat back with a sated glaze to his eyes and sighed, "That was so good! I don't know when breakfast has ever been that great. I usually just get cereal with sugar water."
"No milk?" I asked.
"Nah," he replied. "If there is any, it's always spoiled. I just learned to skip it."
I felt like a heel for bringing up a painful memory, but as only boys can, he was on and beyond.
"What are we going to do today? Looks like the storm has let up some, do you want me to shovel now?"
"No sweetie. No shoveling till we get you some real outdoor clothes, besides, it's Christmas. We haven't checked our stockings yet."
Wiggling his feet in the air, he laughed, "These are full of present for you." Then with a crestfallen expression he continued, more subdued, "Christmas is kind of like breakfast, I've learned to do without. Mom says I'm always too bad, so Santa never brings me anything and she says she always forgets."
"Oh babe," I said and stretched my arms out and around him in a huge hug. He melted into my body and as I caressed and held him, I whispered, "I can't imagine you were ever bad! I bet Santa's been saving it up for when you could truly enjoy it all."
"Really," he whispered back, "Do you think he might have left me something now?"
"Hey, you never know! And you won't know if you don't go look?" I laughed as I pushed him gently towards the study.
He took a few tentative steps and then stopped. I watched as he willed himself to both go and look and to be prepared to find nothing. Then back straight and fingers crossed, he marched from the kitchen and into the study.
I'm sure Mrs. Spritz across the street could hear his whoop of delight. Like a cannon shot he was back in my arms, hugging, jumping up and down and tugging at me all at once.
"He came! Oh Gawd, he came! There's presents all over the place. He knew I was here! He knew my name really had a ph and not a v. The presents say To Stephy just like the stocking! I can't believe it! He came! He came! He Came! How did he know? How did you know my name had the ph? Come on! You've got to see this! Come on! Hurry up!"
I think all this came in one breath! I bet both his feet didn't hit the floor at the same time, in fact neither one may have hit the floor ever! I think my arm was practically pulled from its socket! Putting on my best curmudgeonly face, I scowled, "Don't be teasing me now. I don't like tricks!"
"I'm not fooling!" He cried in exasperation. "Come on! Come on! You'll see!" and I allowed myself to be dragged up and out of the kitchen and into the study.
"See! See!" he cried and then collapsed in front of the fireplace, overwhelmed by the packages piled all around.
I reached around and started the fireplace on medium and then sat back in my recliner and watched my angel sitting and staring from one package to the next. "Well, go ahead, open one," I chided.
Coming out of his trance, he turned and then leaped up and over into my lap. "But I don't know which one?" he said still looking at the pile in awe and clinging to me like syrup on pancakes. "What if I don't do it right? I've never had any presents before."
"Most boys start with the biggest ones first," I advised.
"Yeah, go on, go over there and start with that big one."
If this is what goes on in America's households on Christmas morning, I finally understood the joy that parents get and why they put up with the shopping hassles, traffic and sometimes whiny kids. Stevie's glowing face and whoops of joy, his frequent side trips to my lap to show the latest treasure, the innumerable hugs and the pure joy of the boy were a treasure beyond compare.
Finally, amid heaps of wrapping paper and piles of electronic gadgetry, Stevie paused and looked around then quietly came over to me. He wouldn't look at me as he told his Christmas stockings, "But I didn't get you any present."
"Babe, if you see, I didn't get you anything either. I guess Santa was the only one to know you were going to be here. There's plenty of time for us to give each other presents. Besides," and I scooped him into my arms, "remember? You are my best stocking stuffer ever."
"I love you Nick." he cried into my chest.
"I love you too, sweetie!" We cuddled for a few minutes and then I had to see how these things worked! "Can you set this stuff up and show me your new treasures?"
"Oh, yeah," he exploded off my lap. "Let's get this trash up and then we'll play the GameCube. It's so kewl! I got lot's of neat games!" Scampering to the kitchen, he called out, "Where's the garbage bags, Nick? Of never mind, there here where they are supposed to be, under the sink!"
I laughed that my kitchen storage plan seemed to meet some national standard and then helped him stuff the wrapping paper and discarded blister packs into the bag.
"Okay," I said, "I'll take this to the garage and then you can help me hook this up."
As I returned to the study I was flabbergasted to see Stevie sitting on the floor next to the fireplace and the TV showing some type of little monster running around and around grabbing spinning coins. "How'd you do that, Tiger?" I stupidly asked.
"Do what?" he innocently replied. "Oh, make it work? It's easy, you just ....." and my head was spinning with words like input one, memory chip, controller interface and S Video cable. Remind me to kick my wonderkid editor for pointing out my old age, right after I kiss my wonderkid editor for pointing out my old age! I wonder if I can get Stevie on the payroll as a research assistant? Remind me to talk to my financial advisor!
The rest of the morning I sat and marveled at the intricate body positions a young boy could use to influence the actions of electronic characters. I bet a master yogi couldn't tie his body in the pretzel shapes that Stevie twisted into in front of the fireplace. I also learned what must pass for swear words in teen speak. At least a dozen foreign language phrases issued from my Tiger, but never a damn, fuck or oh shit! I was enthralled. How Santa could have considered him bad, I'd never understand!
I decided on BLT sandwiches for lunch, given Stevie's professed love of bacon. Surprisingly, the smell of the bacon frying did dredge him up from the realm of some fairy land, and I head the toilet flush and then he came bubbling into the kitchen. Still wearing only the stockings from my childhood, he came over and gave me a big hug before rooting up a Coke from the fridge. "Do you want something else to wear, babe?" I asked between bites of my own sandwich.
"No, I don't need anything, these sox keep my toes warm and the fireplace is wonderful to sit near. Besides, I don't ever want to wear those old jeans again!" he snorted between wolf sized bites. "Gawd, these smell and taste so good, can I have another sandwich, please?"
"Sure, smelly boy" I laughed, glad I'd had the foresight to cook the whole bacon package. "We'll have to switch to turkey for tonight, you've wiped out the pork belly futures in this house!"
"Mphhhh," was all I got in return as that sandwich followed its predecessor into my monster's maw.
"Go back and play now, I'll start a real Christmas supper." I tousled his hair.
"No," he shot back, then looking terrified, he stammered, "I mean, no, please, can I stay in here and help you cook? I'll be real good and not make any messes? I didn't mean to argue, I'll do anything you tell me, just, can I please stay?"
I think he was actually sweating at the thought he might have argued with me. His little balls had cinched up tight to his pelvis and I could see real fear in his eyes. I knelt down where I was and held my arms out to him and as he rushed into my embrace, I said, "Hey, sweetie, I told you, you don't have to do anything but feel warm and safe. I'd love to have your help in the kitchen."
He just stood, hugging and shaking for what must have been five minutes until my body was screaming and I had to move. I gently pried him loose and leading him to the cupboards, I pointed to some casserole dishes and gently gave him directions as we began preparing our Christmas dinner.
He slowly got over his fear and the excited Stevie came back out to play. He chattered about this and that and nothing at all as we prepared the turkey breast and then worked up side dishes of stuffing, sweet potatoes and green beans. As everything was entering the oven, he said, "Wow, I don't think I've ever seen so much food. This will be a great Christmas dinner. Can we have some cocoa and sit in the study?"
"Sure, babe," I answered, "You go on in and I'll make the cocoa."
He scampered away and I expected to find him back in fantasyland when I entered the study. He wasn't there, but I heard the toilet again so I got comfy and waited for him to return. He surprised me completely, coming in sucking his thumb and holding his blanket of polar bears and snowflakes. He came straight to my lap, and crawling up wrapped us both in the blanket and cuddled in promptly falling asleep in my arms.
He may have thought it was bacon, but I knew what heaven was: my Stevie, his bears and our chair. I was in heaven!
He stirred about an hour later and looking up at me, he sighed, "Oh, hi, I was afraid you were a dream."
"No dream, just the luckiest man alive!" I squeezed him tighter. "What's that GameBoy thing? Did you get it to work?"
"It's the kewlest!" he squirmed out of my lap, but before I could miss him, he was back with the contraption and he was showing my how he scored the highest points. Again, I couldn't believe the depth of his concentration. If his teachers complained he didn't pay attention, they must have been the most boring of people. He was riveted to the screen and again, he got totally into the game, squirming and twisting, turning and grunting to help his little hero win the battle. All that squirming had me responding with a primal urge and soon my sweatpants were stained once again. About an hour later, I knew I couldn't take much more, so I lifted him and left the chair, putting him back in it, I said, "Play, I'm going to check the turkey."
His favorite response, "Mphhhh," was all I heard as I left the room.
As I put the food out on the table, the aroma of the turkey and other dishes hit his primal need and soon he was puttering around beside me setting the table and chattering away. As we were ready to eat, Stevie surprised me again by asking, "Can I say grace?" and as I nodded assent he said, "Thank you God, for making this storm, that I would go out and find Nick. Thank you Nick, for saving me. And, uh, thank you Santa, for such a wonderful Christmas. Amen."
It was all I could do to choke an Amen out between my tears.
We ate in silence, not so much because of emotions, but more because I don't think he could breathe, let alone talk while he decimated the bird. He must have eaten half of it by himself. Again, I was in awe that such a little stomach could hold so much!
He finally literally pushed the plate away and looked up at me and patted his now distended belly. "That was great."
We cleaned up and filled the fridge with leftovers, then grabbing more cocoa adjourned to our chair. I put a DVD in and we watched a movie, or at least we watched the title of a movie. I think we were both asleep wrapped in our bears before the first scene.
Waking sometime later, I repeated the now familiar bedtime ritual; carrying Stevie to the waterbed and rolling him in, performing my ablutions and then crawling in beside him. He quickly scooted over and wrapped himself around me again and off to dreamland we both went.
Comments to firstname.lastname@example.org Let me know if you'd like more of this Christmas story.
Hope you weathered your part of this storm and that your Christmas was full of Love and Peace.