The All-nighter before Xmas

    The television was on.  It's glare piered the eyes of its most recent observer.  As I sat there watching, all things seemed to make sense; the price of the product being vehemently pushed on the most recent infomercial; the place to go buy the latest styles in town; not to mention just who it was that could tell someone the future. 
    "What time is it?",  He asked his sister.  There she sat with her head laying against the other side of the couch, listlessly paying attention to nothing.
    You're asking the wrong person.  I lost track at hour twelve."
    We'd been trying to stay up all day and night that December 24th in order to make sure we caught a glimpse of old St. Nick.  I was twelve.  My sister was thirteen.  She had been called upon to watch over me.  Actually, it gave her a chance to stay up so she was happy too 
    I don't remember what time it was when she said she'd lost track at hour twelve but I do remember that since there is no such thing as twelve hours in a Christmas night, then there could not have been many awake hours spent by either one of us that weren't to be spent awake already. 
    Some kids at school had told me, Jake Mullen there was no such thing as Santa Claus.  I've never been one to believe what someone else has told me and my belligerence to there being no such thing as Father Christmas would have to have been just another example. 
    I finally decided to turn off the TV and get a snack.  Just as I turned the corner in the kitchen I heard what sounded to me like sleigh bells.  I  turned around to see if my sister was still awake, when sure enough I saw her eyes shut and her head nearly hanging off the edge of the arms of our mom and dad's old couch.  She never was one to be stirred by bells; unless they meant her boyfriend jake was at the door.
    So I walked to the place the sound was coming from.  I walked past the couch, shaking my sister as I silently strolled.  Hopefully she'd wake up but oh well if she didn't.  I left the living room through the front hallway towards the front door, which now laid in front of me. 
    For some reason it was open.  As I drew ever more close I could just make out a sliver of white coming from the far edge of the doorway. 
    As I edged onto the front step I saw that the white sliver belonged to the back end of a moving truck parked next door.  Evidentally our neighbors, the Johnstons had decided to wait til the last minute to get the heck out of dodge; away from the hustle and bustle of what used to be mine and their home- good ole Bradburry Street; the mecca of traffic infested subdivisions when you're talking about suburban Delaware. 
    I spotted what had made the noise.  A wreath had fallen from way up high in the truck.  Whew!, oh well, back to work.