Yes, that’s the stuff my parents made in the basement on Christmas Eve.
Let’s put together that tricycle, the plastic kitchen for me, the light bulb cooker of brownies and disaster pretzels.
Over the years they graduated to a family gift and then we’d get sweaters and socks and little things in our stockings. Each year a ping pong table, air hockey. And an electric racetrack we designed. The white car went fast but often flew off the track. I took the blue one which was heavier and I controlled the curves. Sense vs. sensibility. I won probably 90% of the time. My sister may dispute that.
“Santa is working.” That’s what they said after we left out cookies and milk. Of course, we kids never got to see Santa. ‘Tis our loss. I’m sure he’ll be here next week. Cheers for the holiday season. Dee