As I woke up on that Christmas morning, I was instantly over taken by the sweet aroma of cinnamon rolls. One of my favorite Christmas traditions was eating cinnamon rolls for breakfast. It was always special because we hardly ever had them except for on Christmas.
I clumsily rolled out of my bed and found my way into the kitchen.
"Good morning," I said to anyone who would listen.
"Good morning," my mom and dad chimed at the same time.
I sat down at the kitchen table as my mom set a warm plate down in front of me. As I began to devour the tasty treat, I heard Spencer emerging from his bedroom. As he walked into the kitchen, he patted me on the top of the head a couple times. A kitchen chair screeched against the tile floor as he took a seat at the table.
"Are you ready to lose today?" Spencer asked me.
"I think the real question is; Are you ready to lose?" I retorted.
We were referring to another one of our Christmas traditions. Every year, Spencer and I would try to guess what we had gotten each other. The only guess that we got was the category that the gift was in. We each got to feel the package to get an idea of the size and weight (I always made Spencer close his eyes when he did it so that it would be fair) and then we would each take a guess. Whoever came the closest to guessing what the gift was, got five extra dollars from the other one.
Spencer got up from the table and walked past me on the way to the living room. I heard him pick up a couple of packages and then come back into the kitchen.
"Here's your present. Good luck," he taunted me as he sat back down.
"Hold on, kids," my mom said, "I want you to wait until Robin gets here before we open any presents. It would be rude of us to start without our guest."
Spencer sighed dramatically. The kitchen chair wailed as it was slid across the floor just as dramatically. Spencer continued his sarcastic hissy fit by stomping loudly back into the living room and tossing the presents back under the tree.
My mother tsked at him before starting a conversation with my dad about the war movies he had been watching last night and this morning.
When I was finished eating my heavenly breakfast I made my way to my room to get ready. After recovering from almost tripping over a basket that my mom had absentmindedly set in the middle of the floor, I grabbed my prearranged outfit off of my dresser and changed clothes. Once dressed, I ran my brush through my thin hair and braided it. My mom had taught me how to braid my hair when I was little and it was the only hairstyle that I could do myself.
As I finished, I ran my hands over my clothes one last time. I felt really good. My sweater was big and warm, my jeans were snug, and my boots were comfortable.
I left my room and went back into the kitchen just as my dad began a lecture on the most important battles in the Civil War and the crucial mistakes that many people made. With a sigh, I left the kitchen and went into the living room.
Spencer met me halfway to the couch and led me the rest of the way. He sat down with a sigh and I settled in right next to him.
"Hold on," he said, "You got a couple stray hairs." He got up from the couch and when he returned he put a couple pins into my hair. "We wouldn't want you to look bad for your boyfriend, know would we?"
I hit him. "Shut up. He's not my boyfriend."
"Yet," he teased, shoving me slightly.
Spencer and I sat there on the couch antsy with anticipation as we waited for Robin to arrive. We both were almost grown, but there was just something about Christmas. You can never believe that it's Christmas, it always feels like a dream. Childhood is in the air and you can't help but smile all throughout the day.
YOU ARE READING
The Color Blue
Teen FictionShe was one who didn’t judge a book by its cover; maybe it’s because she couldn’t. Blind since birth, London Cabre always relied on her brother to be the judge of people for her. She was scarred from her last boyfriend, misunderstood by her own fami...
