Every Christmas I pick a year from my past and write about what was on TV, and other things about this seasonal period. This year I have picked 1972 the year I felt the full meaning of Christmas. I realised money didn’t grow on trees, money was tight and dads wage packet wasn’t endless. Christmas was now about my sisters where Christmas was still about Father Christmas and the North Pole but I knew it was the big cupboard on the landing upstairs.
I do not remember why and mum never did say why but this Christmas was a bit bare under the tree for my brother and me. I remember dad was told to go to Bessemer road market and see what he could find for us. I also remember mum and dad arguing about it and the fact that our main Christmas present fell through. I knew it was a bike.
I remember Christmas morning finding a large Christmas stocking full of crap. One of those mesh filled Christmas stockings with naff tiny games and tricks for a 12-year-old boy was not what you were hoping for but luckily, we had our Christmas Annuals and a few other miscellaneous items (odds and ends).
Mum as embarrassed about the stocking present and annoyed with dad for buying them as one by one items would break or snap they were so cheaply made. Thing is dad wasn’t the best buy of toys left to his own devices mum was the toy shopper and she like to plan ahead she wasn’t a last minute shopper.
I remember enjoyed helping and playing with my sisters it must have been the first year I did not mine being bother by them. I was now beyond toys what I was into was football, toys soldiers and building Meccano and Airfix models and if there was sniff of some money I would be happy.
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