Christmas was coloring books

I got an Erector Set one Christmas. My dad loved it. He built a steam shovel. I watched him do it.
I was never one for building things. Or, like my younger brother, taking them apart to see how they worked. That stuff never crossed my mind.
What I did love was a new coloring book or two. And a fresh box of crayons. If I found a Crayola box of 64 colors under the tree with my name on it, I knew I must have been a good boy.
Always one for delayed gratification, I never dove right into my coloring book. I’d leaf through it first, carefully examining each page to select the one I planned to tackle first. That would typically not happen during the chaos of Christmas morning but rather later that afternoon or evening when everything quieted down. I’d lie on the floor near the tree and lose myself.
And unlike the toy drum I got one year and put my foot through ten minutes later, my coloring books gave me pleasure all winter.

Ed Ackerman