Vibrator Football

Personal Vibrator Story

I crapped my pants when I saw today's Sellout Woot.  They're still making Vibrating Football?  It was a piece of crap 50 years ago, but seeing it brought back this Christmas memory, about the year my sister and I discovered, from other kids, the truth about Santa. The thought occurred that if mom and dad, not Santa, were our Christmas benefactors, then there would necessarily be a stash someplace.  We soon found it tucked back in a crawlspace under the eaves.  Piles of stuff.  I remember a Fighting Seabees bulldozer, with genuine rubber tracks, and of course an electric vibrating football game.  We went up there and played with our stuff every day.  Then, in an act of impishness, I took a red Crayon, and scribbled on the inside box cover: I was nearly as excited about seeing the surprised look on mom's face as I was about getting to actually plug this thing in and play with it.  Come Christmas Eve it was tradition to go over to our grandparents for Christmas with my dad's family.   Imagine my surprise when my cousin Wayne opened his present from us, and it was an electric vibrating football game. "Wow," I remember thinking, "we both got one."  Attention shifted to the next gift,  then suddenly was diverted back to my Aunt who was helping Wayne.  She yelled today's  equivalent of "WTF?, " whatever that was.  There, laying on the floor for all to see,  was the box cover with my Crayon art.  At first the bulb only flickered in my head, but soon enough the full deal hit me.  I was thinking that era's equivalent of "HFS!,"  which I think was "HFS!"  Then the "S" hit the fan.  I don't think I ever saw mom that mad again as she was then, and my dad, whose happiness was directly proportional to hers, let loose too.  It was one sorry ass ride home, full of  was one long "I have never been so embarrassed in my whole life." But, that wasn't the real problem.  That we had discovered the truth about Santa was. The magic was gone for them.  For us all, but especially my parents.  Christmas was still a big deal after that, but never quite the same for any of us. It was something I would not completely comprehend until our own kids wised up. Post Script:  The next year I received my own vibrating football game.  When I opened it, mom had scribbled something sarcastic in red Crayon, like "Enjoy."  That game was crappiest POS I have ever owned.  It does nothing but send the little figures vibrating about randomly.  Maybe if I'd thought to sit on it?  Who buys this "FS"?