Christmas, for me, meant the pretty presents, wrapped in shiny paper with huge bows on them, which sat under the tree. It meant the Christmas tree, so beautifully decorated. It meant the splendid Christmas meal made of turkey, ham, vegetables and my mom's apple pie. But most of all, the holidays meant the shiny new presents that I would be receiving I would sit around for weeks, trying to come up with a Christmas list good enough to rival what I knew my friends would be getting as well. That year I had to have a Gameboy, and the Super Mario World game that went along with it. I realize, now, that I was very spoiled, but I didn't care. The holidays were a time about me, and only me. And this Christmas was going to be the best one of all, spent with my grandpa.
A lot of young kids are intimidated by their grandparents, whether it be the typical "old person smell," the inability to relate to young people, or just the fact that they are boring. Not me though, I had the coolest grandfather in the world. He used to dress up like in different costumes just because he felt like it. The two of us always went out hunting or fishing or sometimes just to sit out on their pond and talk. Some girls are "Daddy's girls," but I was a "Granddaddy's girl." I had never spent Christmas with my grandparents before and could only imagine just how wonderful it could be there. Early in December, my mom told me that we were going to be spending my entire holiday break in Arkansas with my grandparents. In