A full-up house at Christmas......

I remember that Christmas when a young cousin arrived at 212 on Christmas Day, took one look, and proclaimed the house to be full-up.

That was Christmas on Avenue Z. A house that was full-up with people, presents, food, love, laughter, and -- shhh! -- probably an argument or two.... (But, we won't speak of that today.) ;)

Only my grandparents and my maiden aunt lived in the house in Pratt City, so -- after Christmas morning and all that goes with it was over at our respective homes, the onslauaght would begin as each family loaded into cars and headed to Avenue Z.

I can still see MomP's roomy living room, so filled with wrapped presents that people had to perch on sofas and chairs around the edges of that wonderfully mysterious pile of glittering gifts -- not to be distributed and opened until after dinner.

How hard it was for us cousins to wait! We would tiptoe through the piles of presents looking for gifts with our names on them. And, of course, we would each keep a count to make sure things were even. This would last until an uncle or aunt would yell at us to "get away from the presents."

After a dinner that required two rooms of tables to accommodate the people and food, and after the dishes were done -- which seemed to take f-o-r-e-v-e-r because those were the days when dishwashers were humans -- after everything was done, finally, we could all gather for the gift giving.

Each year a different uncle, aunt, or older cousin was chosen to call out the names and hand out the gifts. And then the party would begin. Ohhs, ahhs, paper, boxes, ribbon......everywhere. And you know that the piles of discarded wrappings were the best gift possible for the baby cousins. We sometimes wrapped and decorated them -- whenever they -- or the aunts to whom they belonged -- would allow it.

Oh, the presents! So many presents. But, as many as each of us received, the pile of gifts stacked around MomP & Gindaddy would end up being almost as tall as they were. ....Or so it seemed to me at the time. You see, where the rest of us drew names for gift exchanging, everyone gave MomP & Gindaddy something. It was almost, almost, as much fun watching the grandparents opening their gifts as opening our own.

And then there was the tree. I actually don't remember the tree being exceptional -- it was the gifts under the tree that appealed to the greedy kid that was moi. As I remember, some years the tree was table sized, and some years it was a tall, skinny model. I guess a large tree wouldn't have fit considering the space needed for all the people and presents.

There was one mysterious aspect to the tree at 212. Each year five envelopes would be nestled in its branches -- one for each aunt, uncle (and their spouses) -- addressed in my grandfather's handwriting. Those envelopes contained money and in my mind's eye, I can still see the looks exchanged by my mom & dad, the warm smiles they shared as they opened their card.

As the day grew long, and the sun set, and the baby cousins began to nod, one by one the aunts and uncles loaded up to head home. I'm not sure how or when it started, but there were always at least half-dozen of us cousins choosing to stay behind at 212.

Cots and rollaway beds were set up as we girl cousins fed, bathed, and got our new dolls ready for bed, and the boy cousins played with various boy stuff. Turkey sandwiches, ambrosia, and several choices of cakes were sitting around for the taking.

So ended a Christmas Day on Avenue Z, with the house still pretty much full-up with love, laughter, and lots of cousins with brand-spanking new toys.