Most Memorable Christmas
Haley Swenson
My mom was a floral arranger. On the eve of my third Christmas, she was hurrying to finish an extravagant wreath that she had been working on for the past few days. I sat at the kitchen table with her while I washed my Christmas cookies down with a glass of milk. My grandparents were expecting us at their Christmas party shortly so she frantically finished the wreath.
“There,” she said, as I reached for my Christmas tree cookie, “finished.” Unfortunately, there was now no time remaining to clean up the ribbons, berries, and jingle bells that were left on the table. “Now, stay right here, and I’ll be back in a minute, I have to go get dressed,” she said and began to walk out of the kitchen. “Don’t spill on your dress! And, Haley, don’t put those jingle bells in your mouth!”
With that warning, she left the room. Instead of warning me, however, what she really had done was give me an idea. Moments after she left the room, I put down my cookie and crept toward the small bag of jingle bells. Reaching my milk-covered hand out, I grabbed the shiniest one. I examined it carefully with both fingers and then popped it into my mouth. Gulp! I’m assuming that you can only guess what having a jingle bell slid down your throat feels like. I, not knowing any other alternatives, or course, began to cry and scream.
My mom came running into the kitchen with a brush stuck in her hair.
“What’s the matter?” she asked while she tried her best to console me. Through the tears I managed, “I got a fweengle bell stuck in my teef!” She examined my teeth for any signs of a jingle bell.
After a matter of seconds, my mom realized what I had done. So, she called my dad and told him to meet us in the emergency room. Three or four doctors at a time pried my small mouth open and stuck their fingers and tools down my throat. The doctors were shocked that a jingle bell made it down my slender throat without damaging anything or getting caught. After hours of crying and struggling on Christmas Eve, they told my mom that my “fweengle bell” would have to come out “naturally”.
Although I didn’t get to enjoy any Christmas parties that year, it still stands out as one of my most memorable Christmases. Getting home around 11:30 p.m., I went right to bed and didn’t wake up till Christmas.
