Stories for My Grandchildren
It was the Christmas season of 1958 or 59 and now that my brother and I were "grown" we could be left alone for several hours while our parents went out for the evening. My festive mother seemed to have a cruel streak in her because the Christmas Tree went up the day after Thanksgiving. That wasn't too bad but she insisted on putting presents underneath immediately thereafter.
While they were away one evening, my brother and I fondled a small rectangular shaped box that when shaken conjured up all kinds of guesses as to what it may be. This went on for several days each time my parents would leave. Finally, one Saturday night while they were out dancing Cliff peeled back the tape from the bottom of the box only to reveal a box of Cherry Bombs. Oh, not the kind they sell today but the originals which if you put a tin can over one when the Cherry Bomp exploded it would send the can hundreds of feet in the air. (Well, maybe 50')
We were so excited that it absolutely amazed me that we would only take out two or three and set them off. The most fun was when Cliff would put one in his sling shot and I would light it. They would sail over the neighbors house before they exploded causing quite a commotion with us diving through the front door before the report. We never got caught and we did it every time my parents would leave.
Imagine all of our surprise when we opened the box on Christmas morning in front of Mom & Dad and only two Cherry Bombs were in there. Nuff Sed!