1965: I had a paper route. It was MY route, and I was responsible for it, no one else, it was made very clear to me. But that year, 40 years ago, like this year, Christmas fell on a Sunday, and my father got up and drove me around on my route. It was very special to me, especially since I saw that Santa had already made his way to our house.
Merry Christmas, blogiverse!
