The Secret Christmas Parties

I'm supposed to be studying for a test.

The competitive side within me is screaming out loud: Get your butt off that chair, right now! Or else you'll flunk! 

The procrastinating side is like, Pshhh! Whatever, as if anyone else's studying right now! 

The competitive side: STUDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

But here I am, listening to Tiffany Alvord's amazing cover of Wrecking Ball and blogging. I'm constantly licking my lips because they've dried up (curse you, winter). My grandmother's asleep in the other room and there's no one else in the house. 

As everyone knows it, Christmas is fast approaching. Every shop in the vicinity will be decorated, so will the houses. People will hang laurel wreaths outside their doors and bring Christmas trees. People will make cakes and gingerbread houses. Kids (like my seven-year-old cousin) will write letters to the nonexistent Santa Claus, begging him to bring new toy-cars and dolls. You'll hear annoying, though endearing, carols. 

Even though I'm not a Christian, I love Christmas. 

Till the first grade, I hardly knew anything about Christmas except for the fact that it was celebrated by Christians. 

Of course, when I was five, I'd visited my teacher's house on Christmas. Her name was Catherine. Even though I don't remember her that distinctly, I remember that she was a thin, young, bespectacled woman, who might appear as strict at first but she was a real sweetheart. 

Strange part is, I didn't think of her until today. 

As I said before, I was five when I visited her house with my parents. Catherine Ma'am's parents were really sweet, like her and it was fun (I don't really remember much except for the fact that I loved the visit). 

I shifted to my current place by mid-2003. I changed schools, I made loads of new friends and I guess, I completely forgot about my precious Catherine Ma'am by then. 

Isn't it so strange that those who mean so much to you once-upon-a-time now hardly matter to you. When you remember those memories, you feel kind of fuzzy, but in a good way. You feel a lot better but it leaves a sad aftertaste...doesn't it? 

When I was in the fourth grade (circa 2006), my now seven-year-old cousin was born. It was really amazing to call myself the 'older one' and I felt like I could share a sibling-like relationship with this little thing. 

My cousin's mother, my aunt was (and is) my one of my favourite people in this world. My aunt and I were very close. Even after my cousin was born and my aunt was busy with her, she still had time to listen to my nine-year-old troubles. It's amazing how a woman can do so much when she has a five-month-old baby to take care of. My aunt's a very good example of that. 

That December, my aunt and I planned a 'secret' Christmas party. My aunt told me not to tell anyone about it. She said that we'll call everyone for the party on 25th December, in the morning and surprise them with gifts.

I was really excited about the whole prospect. Who wouldn't be delighted to be a part of a very secret plan? What made me happier was that no one else knew about it and it was our thing! There was no uncle, no mum, no grandparents, no cousins. It was just the both of us, secretly plotting to surprise everyone.

We'd brought the gifts a few days before. The hiding part was difficult, especially for someone like me. I'm a hyperactive person and I simply couldn't keep my mouth shut.

On the Christmas morning, I felt super excited. I woke up early enough and went to my aunt.

"I've told Grandma and your uncle about the party." My aunt said. My face was about to fall when she added, "I had to. Your grandma knows how to cook a tasty sweet dish and your uncle can help with the decorations."

So, I didn't mind.

I don't really remember how the party was, except for the fact that it was one of the best days of my life. It was delightful to see everyone get together and enjoy being with each other.

Strange part is, I feel really wistful right now. A lot of stuff has happened since that day. It feels so distant, that memory. That cool day, the presents, the chatter of all the people in that small party, the decorations... everything is there in my mind. I feel a strange urge within me. I feel like I could go back, use a Time Turner and just visit my nine-year-old self again.

I want to remember how it felt like being a kid. I want to stay there, in that scrawny nine-year-old body, enjoying that memory again. I don't want to come back. Nope, I don't.

I never wanted to grow up.

Never mind. What's passed has passed. No point in dwelling on it now.

Well, it's a long post! I'll stop writing.

Merry Christmas, everyone! Take care, be happy. Stay beautiful!

xoxo

Archie