Deer Season Only Comes Once a Year

angrysanta_1000Daddy took his hunting very seriously.  This was a man’s sport, an entitlement.  Real men hunted and fished.  A man’s outdoor gear was a reflection of his virility..  Daddy would have sooner worn lace panties than not follow the unwritten rules. Hunting gear was a necessity, not an extravagance like a dependable car, bills paid on time, and clothes for the family.  Daddy always had money held out of his paycheck weekly for the Christmas Club, but Mother never could remember that deer season came around the same time as the Christmas Club checks were issued.  By early December, both had long unwritten lists in their heads.  A day or so before the check was to be issued, Daddy would be in an unaccustomed jovial mood, sitting at the table with one of his buddies drinking coffee, and casually mention his plan to purchase a Manchester #1108 Rifle with a scope.  Nearby at the stove, steam rose from Mother’s ears.  The Manchester #1108 Rifle cost about the same as her Christmas list.

The Annual Christmas Fight was on.  Daddy’s manhood was at stake.  He couldn’t emasculate himself by backing down on his purchase after bragging in front of his hunting buddies.  Mother completely misunderstood a man’s needs and considered him selfish, lowering his opinion of her and hurting his feelings.  “When I was a kid I only got an orange for Christmas, and was proud of that.  Besides, you should be able to get everything on your list for about twelve dollars.  Twelve seemed to be the only number Daddy knew when it came to doling money out to Mother.  Every week, she got twelve dollars for groceries, a magnanimous sum for the 1950s.  We ate a lot of beans and biscuits. You just needed to go through the store, pick out what she wanted, take it up to the register, and tell the manager what you are willing to pay.  That’s what I’d do if I handled the shopping!  Ain’t no need in letting people run over you.  Do I have to manage the house and make the living?  And besides, where were the clothes and toys I bought the kids and those three nice dresses I just bought you?  You just didn’t take of stuff right or you’d still have them? Blah, blah, blah.”

Mother snidely pointed out, “That was over ten years ago.    Besides, how would you know how much things cost now?  You haven’t put a toe in a store, paid a bill, been to a bank, or handled any business since we got married. Don’t you think anybody besides YOU might want a nice Christmas!”  Suggesting he might be selfish was the final insult! It was on!

Eventually, they both developed battle fatigue and went about their business.  Daddy went off in a huff and buy his rifle, but toned his pride down a bit, and made do with a cheaper model.  Deeply offended at Mother’s demands,   he handed over thirty or thirty-five dollars left from the Christmas Check.  Once she recovered from her rage at his everlasting selfishness, she’d shuffle bills, frantically glue in trading stamps, put us kids to selling coke bottles, feed us meals of beans, potatoes, biscuits and gravy, and canned vegetables, less with meat and fruit.  She worked late every night concocting some homemade gifts and checked Goodwill out. Grandma always sent a huge box of Christmas gifts, her sister Annie always sent money.  Somehow, Mother always managed to pull together a wonderful Christmas.

On Christmas morning we woke to find gifts piled all around the Christmas tree.  Mother was relieved to have manufactured a miracle once again.  Daddy enjoyed seeing his children enjoying a bounteous Christmas and was reassured  to Mother could do well with a little money when she half tried.  Maybe next year he could save back enough to get that……….

Advertisements

32 thoughts on “Deer Season Only Comes Once a Year

    • Mother always managed to pull a rabbit out of the hat, between layaways, small monetary gifts from her sister, stuff Grandma sent, Green Stamps, and what she could hide back from Daddy.

      Like

  1. dave lewis says:

    My Dad always bought me toys that he would have wanted as a kid and I got him some after shave because he never used it and wouldn’t miss that splash or two I put on when I dated that cute girl that looked a lot like you!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh boy, does that bring back memories. Daddy didn’t hunt, but he was a ham radio operator and loved his toys. THEY always came first. If it was something he wanted by golly, he’s spend what he wanted. Mother on the other hand figured out how to get around it through layaway and one time she cut up her wedding dress to make a small version for “make believe”. Daddy thought that was insensitive and like she’d somehow minimized their marriage. The funny thing about layaway was that most of the time, by the time she’d paid it off, we’d outgrown what was in her stash, so we’d have to try on something else to take it’s place. Thank goodness the stores were pretty good about that. What really got dad was when mother discovered CREDIT CARDS!!! Pay backs are a bitch. What can I say? LOL

    Liked by 2 people

  3. He sounds a lot like my dad. My mom and dad made sure we had lots of gifts under the tree – just not expensive gifts. Around the first of November we would be given the Sears Christmas catalog and was told we could each pick out “1” thing not to cost more than $??. (Which wasn’t much). That catalog entertained us kids for hours and hours as we picked our one thing only to change it the next week. I have a feeling the same happened for you and your siblings.

    Liked by 3 people

    • I think she was magic. We always got five gifts. One was the BIG gift, a rocking horse, BB gun, cap pistols. Then we always got something we needed, shoes, coat, jeans. Then we got three little ones, barrettes, color books, or bubble stuff. I don’t know how she did it. As we got older, of course the big gift was usually a coat, jacket, or dress.

      Liked by 1 person

Talk To Me!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s