Personal Narrative: My Christmas

¨Okay kids, it is bedtime! Go up in your beds!” I shout to my son and daughter, Xavier and Melody.

¨But Dad it is Christmas Eve, we cannot go to sleep until you tell us a story!” both bellow.

¨Oh alright, if you guys insist.” I mumble. Both the little ones screech in excitement and run upstairs. I fondly remember the adrenaline my body gave me the night on Christmas Eve; not being able to sleep and cautiously waiting at night to hear Santa and his magical reindeer find a spot to land on top of my house. This struck an idea in my head to tell my kids about my Christmas days when I was a child. I ran up the stairs thrilled to bring back old memories and entered their room.

¨So what is the story Dad!” chuckles my kids.

¨Well I 'm

At this point, I was starving for presents. I could almost smell them, I knew Santa Claus would get everything I wanted on my Christmas list. Our parents would finally get up and they would rush down stairs, not with us of course, and tell us if Santa came or not. When they tell us the news, which is always good, they get out the Camera and video camera. They line us up on our staircase and take prolific amount of pictures. It is here where my body is just tingling to get down stairs to see my

When my torturous parents say yes, all hell breaks loose. I get up quicker than a fly, and run as fast as an antelope getting chased by a lion down those stairs. I feel like I am in a movie, trying to find the quickest route to my destination. I cut turns fast, slide through the dining room, and at last the Holy Grail; my living room. My eyes are astonished, my heart is pounding. I go over to my ¨spot” for where Santa places my presents and desperately unleash my claws for opening my presents. Every Christmas Santa didn 't disappoint; I would have hours of fun with my new presents. After the Christmas special of opening presents, I would usually calm down. I would walk into the kitchen and find myself these Danish Crumb Cakes my grandparents always got for the whole family for the Holidays. Boy oh boy would those crumb cakes would quench my taste buds. After eating those scrumptious cakes, I would usually wander for batteries for my new toys. This was by far my least favorite part of Christmas; putting those needy presents together. However, my dad and mom would always help me out and get those presents together in lickity split. It was time to play for hours on end and brag to my friends how my Christmas was simply the best. Finally, the hardest part of Christmas; ending the fun and going to sleep. I walk upstairs depressed about ending the fun, but knowing that I can sleep soundly after a long day at