I’m not sure if this is 1974, although that’s what is marked on the slide. I think I look older than 18 months. Regardless of how old I am, obviously whatever my brother is eating looks good. My guess is milk and cookies, possibly a snack before bed, after we fixed a plate for Santa. Or maybe…he stole this off Santa’s plate.
That spot, right where I’m planted, is pretty much where I was trapped one Christmas night several years later. Dad was working the night shift, and I was sleeping with my Mom. My grandparents were sleeping on the pullout couch on the main floor. The tree was in this room next door. Our stockings were hung in the corner on that same chair.
I had crept down the stairs to poke around, and I might have been more successful if my Grandparents hadn’t decided to turn on the lights and have a conversation, between trips to the bathroom. I crouched, frozen (and freezing) in my pink nightie, terrified I would be discovered by them, or Mom. I had been gone a long time! It was a very long (and very boring) conversation. Neither one could hear the other and they had to repeat everything, making it even longer (and more boring). Fortunately I got away with it, and I didn’t tell a soul for many years.
Did it cure me of snooping? Sadly, note for a few years! Now that I’m older (and can no longer creep down the stairs without making them creak), I’m happy to let Santa do all the sneaking!