I found this picture rummaging through a box of old pictures of my great aunt Ollie Pearl's. This was back in the 1930s but I remember it like it was last week. It's from when she took me to see Santa Claus.
Now, to undertand what's going on here, picture me down in the left-hand corner where his shiny old eyes are sliding. I told him I didn't want to hop on his lap, and I'd have to tell him what I wanted from right there where I stood on the floor.
So he starts his routine: "Were you a good little girl this year?" and I said "no," which was the truth. (That was the year I'd snuck into Effie's room at the boarding house where we were staying and stole her big bloomers and stepped into one leg of them and stumbled down the stairs and got my little behind smacked with a broom.) I wasn't above telling a little white one even back then, but I thought it would be more fun to tell the truth in that case.
Since he'd never heard that reply, he went on and followed the script. He said "Well what do you want for Christmas?" and I said "a little tin of Tubrose snuff," and the photographer took the picture right then.
Anyhow, that's one of my what you call precious memories, and I hope you're busy right about now making your own here in what my favorite singer Andy Williams calls "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year," though with all the cooking I'm having to do, I've got my doubts about that.
