Cosby Sweaters 25 Days Of Christmas: Day 7

First of all, I realize I missed Day Six, and for that I apologize. It’s no secret, however, that the holidays often come with a healthy dose of disappointment. Luckily, missing Day Six plays right into Day Seven’s hands.

Speaking as a former child, the absolute worst Christmas gift you could ever get was clothes. I’m not talking about cool clothes or costumes that you actually asked for, mind you. I’m talking about clothes you didn’t ask for and basically counted against your total gift tally come Christmas morning. Quite simply, getting clothes as a gift blew.

For the first few years of my life, my great aunt would always get me clothes. I hated it. There it was, this big ass box under the tree with “To: Little Skeezy” on the tag and I would get so excited wondering if this was finally the year that the cycle would break. Nope, it never was. It was always clothes.

And then it all changed.

I awoke Christmas morning sometime in the late 70′s and waited as patiently as possible for my parents to give up trying to sleep through my sister and I rustling around by the tree so we could rip apart the presents. My grandparents were also there, as was my clothes-gifting great aunt, and eventually they all made their way to the living room.

I open a few presents and things are going well until my mother says, “Skeeze, open that one from your aunt!”  Reluctantly, I began to open it, ready to get it out of the way. As I ripped open the wrapping paper my eyes grew three sizes. No, it couldn’t be. She was probably just using the box to upset me and it’s full of corduroy pants. But it wasn’t. There, right before my eyes, was exactly what I wanted more than anything. The Holy Grail of Christmas gifts for boys my age.

The Millenium Falcon.

I couldn’t believe it. All of my Christmas wishes had come true. Not only had they come true, but they had all gotten together and presented me with the single greatest toy I would ever own. How bad ass was this thing?  Check out the commercial!

Dude! Laser turret, smuggling compartment, that chess board, a Jedi training probe, cockpit, retractable landing gear (the front one was a perfect handle if left down for when you were flying it around the house or yard), SPACE NOISES!

Here’s the item description from the 1979 Sears Wishbook:

Needless to say, I was thrilled. My father had to tell me to finish opening my other gifts before I could rip into that box. It. Was. Awesome.

The lesson here, of course, is never give a kid clothes for Christmas. Or, better yet, give him clothes for a few straight years and then do something like this.

For what it’s worth, I still have that toy.