Lynn's Comments: When I was about six, I took a small purse from a local variety store. I also confess: when I was about 35, I stole a skipping rope from Ikea. I don't know why I did it. I had the opportunity and I thought my daughter would play with it. I ran to the car, hiding it in my other packages and drove away like a thief with a prize. It was exciting, actually. I didn't need or want this thing, but I got away with an illegal act and it was fun. At least until I got home.
By then, the thrill had been replaced by a litany that played over and over in my head; "What did you do that for, you idiot?!" I mailed the skipping rope back to the store with a note to say that I had taken it by mistake; that I'd forgotten to pay for it. I never heard from Ikea- but I didn't want their thanks. The sense of relief was all that I needed!
Lynn's Comments: I enjoyed spinning this story along for a while. December is always a difficult month when it comes to money- and the temptation to take things to give as gifts to others is very strong. I hoped that by showing how hard it was for Michael to live with his conscience I might deter another young person from doing some "Christmas shoplifting". This story was based on a true incident. Aaron had taken a toy from the Hudson's Bay store and confessed when I asked him where the money had come from to buy it.
Lynn's Comments: The woman took the toy, laughed, put it back on the shelf and in front of Aaron said "No problem. Kids take stuff all the time!" I was livid. Here was an opportunity to teach a child about honesty and she passed it off as if it was nothing.
Lynn's Comments: When a child - or anyone - rights a wrong, they need recognition. To have Michael return the scarf without some praise for his honesty would have been wrong. For every manager who would punish a gesture like this, there are many more who will acknowledge the courage required when a thief returns what was taken and is ready to face the music! In this case, Michael faced both his mother and the store manager proving he had "strength of character"!
Lynn's Comments: The thing about writing a sit-com style of strip is that secondary characters have to be there on hand to deliver "straight lines" These comments they would likely NOT say in real life, but do so here, in order to make the dialogue interesting. Quotes like Lawrence's here are added so the reader can weigh the outcome: Since I got away with it, would I have taken the stolen article back or would I have been nuts to do so?
Lynn's Comments: In retaliation for the store manager's off-handed response, I did this short storyline about theft, guilt and honesty and sent it in. As Farley Mowat said (when I asked him if everything he wrote in his books was true), "If it didn't happen, it SHOULD have!" My thoughts exactly!
Lynn's Comments: I got into trouble for this story line, too; people who read the comics to their children didn't want to have to explain the origin of the Santa species. But, I figured if the kid was old enough to read and understand the comics page, he likely had the Santa thing figured out anyway. Not so, apparently!
Lynn's Comments: I remember lying on the couch the day before Christmas, watching the clock. My dad walked in to the living room and bragged that he knew how to make the time go faster. I said I didn't believe him and the game was on. He took me to the basement and had me help him empty the "clinkers" from the wood and coal furnace. He let me relight the fire and watch the rolled newspapers and kindling ignite. We refilled the small metal humidifier and made space in the coal bin for another load. After a bath and a snack, the clock had moved an hour. He was right. My dad had made the time go faster!
Lynn's Comments: As a teenager, I often worked at Woodwards - a big department store in Vancouver. Every Christmas, at the last possible moment, anxious men would come into the store, desperately looking for "the right thing" for wives and girlfriends. Because my dad was a jeweller, I was most comfortable in the watch and jewellery department- which was the first place these crazed gents would go.
Being a "shopper", I always looked around the store to see what perfect gifts I could find- for a mom or a girlfriend. I could always suggest something better than the fast "OK, that gew-gah looks good- I'll take it!"
I was often given "time out" to take people to other departments where I'd point out a beautiful purse, glove and scarf set or unique linens or cookware. So many times, these men would return after Christmas and thank me for the ideas and it made me feel great! Who knew that in a few more decades, "professional shopper" would become a career!
Lynn's Comments: I don't know about you ladies out there, but I'd much rather get a food processor for Christmas than a nightgown that was chosen by my husband!
Lynn's Comments: I love having adult children. They tell me the truth NOW about things I suspected when they were little. I just found out that both kids knew exactly where to find my hidden cache of Yuletide gifts. Even worse, they actually unwrapped and carefully rewrapped them! The one concession was that Katie admitted to being disappointed on Christmas morning when she unwrapped gifts that were no longer a surprise. As her grandfather was fond of saying: "Cheaters never prosper!"
Lynn's Comments: By listing their names, I was able to say "hello" to a number of dear friends in this strip. When it appeared in the paper, I looked forward to their inevitable calls. So often my friends would say, "you'd better not put me in the paper!" But when I did, they were always thrilled.
Lynn's Comments: Getting the kids ready for tree cutting trip took almost as much time as the event itself. Bundling them into layer after layer of winter duds followed by a drive out into the bush was a challenge. Follow this with a tiring search for the right tree and you have a cold and hungry family ready to take down the first semi suitable shrub in the area.
Lynn's Comments: The annual trek into the bush to get our Christmas tree was a Lynn Lake ritual. The trouble was that the good trees were only visible in the summer. You'd have to tag the tree and hope someone else didn't cut it down before you did! December temperatures would often dip below -39C so you had to know where you were going and take your tree fast - before you froze to the spot where you were standing. A frozen trunk wasn't always the easiest thing to chop or saw through, either!
Lynn's Comments: A good tree, harvested by hand, was something to celebrate. In this strip, Farley is giving the yuletide conifer a canine style christening - another event which never happened, but should have!
Lynn's Comments: Kids are always excited about Christmas. Moms spend so much time preparing for the big day that their fun only lasts for a few hours on the morning of the 25th- before the great feast! Moms don't get the same bang for the buck as the rest of the clan, whereas Dads are far more into "Santa Claus" than they let on. Even though he knew what was in most of them, I would find my husband sniffing and shaking the boxes under the tree when he thought nobody was looking.
Lynn's Comments: My brother and I were allowed to open one gift and our stocking if we got up before our parents did. Naturally, we were up before 6am, whispering in the dark as we sniffed out the right gift to open. Our dad, not wanting to miss any of the fun, was soon sitting under the tree next to us, waiting for Mom to make the coffee. Nothing could be opened until she had a coffee in her hand. Even now, the smell of fresh brewed coffee on Christmas morning signals that it's time for the greed-fest to begin.
Lynn's Comments: When our kids were little, I wished that my parents didn't live so far away. Christmas time, especially, would have been better if the other set of "grands" had been there to share it with. The telephone was the next best thing and the bill became our annual gifts to each other.
Lynn's Comments: After all of the preparations and expense; after the cards and the phone calls and the waiting for the clan to gather, the actual day of celebration seemed to be over in a flash. After getting the kids to sleep and the kitchen cleaned up I remember falling into bed dead tired, buzzing from too much food, company and excitement. Still, the sleep that came after everything was over was a deep and satisfying one- knowing I had a whole year to prepare for the next Christmas!
Lynn's Comments: We didn't have a chainsaw--we didn't need a chainsaw ... but for some reason known only to men, my husband bought a big one, with all the safety gear that went with it!
Lynn's Comments: I have always wondered why gymnasiums didn't harness all the energy that is wasted by wheels on exercycles and the like as they spin all day long. With that in mind, I think hamster wheels could be installed in homes where kids tear around relentlessly. If this energy was being put to good use, such as running the vacuum, perhaps we wouldn't resent the mess and the dust they create quite so much!
Lynn's Comments: It's hard for most adults to keep a secret, but for a kid, it's almost impossible. I once overheard my son trying not to tell his sister what she was getting for her birthday. His words went like this, "If I knew something but I don't, but if I did, I wouldn't tell you but it's something you'll really, really like." He struggled with every word, and in the end, managed not to tell. I was so proud of him
Lynn's Comments: Both my kids loved to go Christmas shopping. They still do! Finding the right thing for the right person is exciting, and in our family, funny gifts are the best. One of the best gifts I remember as a kid was a skipping rope. With cardboard and glue my dad made the longest, thinnest box in the world. He placed the skipping rope in it full-length, then wrapped it and put it under the tree. For the life of me, I couldn't imagine what it was, and when I opened it, I laughed and laughed. The parcel itself was almost better than the gift!
Lynn's Comments: The one time I remember going Christmas shopping with my dad was the time he decided we needed a new couch for the living room and wanted to buy one for Mom for Christmas. Bad idea. We bought a squared-off, ugly beige thing with fabric that felt like the rough side of Velcro. Mom hated it ... but, true to form, she never complained. They had that awful couch until they moved out of the house on Fifth Street. The next couch they had, she bought--with no input from Dad. Fair is fair!
Lynn's Comments: For years, Dad worked in the jewellery and giftware business. A lot of the stuff I thought was gaudy or too expensive but one year, a glass fairy caught my eye. Her face, hands, and legs were frosted glass, her wings and clothing were clear. She sat on a "tuffet" of pebbly, textured glass--and I thought she was beautiful. I must have been about twelve when I asked for her as a gift. She was given to me for Christmas and was the first breakable piece I ever owned. This little fairy sat on my dressing table until I left home. I wish I had taken her with me because she disappeared when my folks sold the house and moved away. She was the model for this Christmas story and I still hope she's around--perhaps on another child's dressing table--still unbroken and still loved.
Lynn's Comments: This comes from a joke my dad used to tell about a man and his son who got onto an elevator. I can't recall the joke, but I always remembered the punch line, which was: "If anyone hears anything or smells anything--it's my dad!"
Lynn's Comments: Whenever we kids went into dad's shop, we were told "Look, but don't touch." He'd also say, "You can't break something by looking at it." One day, I was looking at the corrugated board my mother used for stringing pearls. One of the services our business provided was the cleaning and restringing of quality bead necklaces--and Mom was an expert at this. I couldn't help myself, I had to run my fingers down a row of pearls just to see what they felt like. The row of pearls rolled off the groove of the board onto the floor with a wild tinkling clatter. Dad spun around when he heard them fall and ran towards me. "Honest! ... I was just LOOKING!" I told him. We both got down on the floor--desperate to find each and every one before Mom could see what had happened. Unfortunately, she returned before we finished picking up the pearls, and as her eyes fell on me, with his usual comic timing, Dad looked up at her and cried, "Honest ... I was just LOOKING!"