We had moved to Dripping Springs in the mid 80s. It was a great place to raise kids. Life was really wonderful. Madeline was able to find something to occupy her time with every second of every day. And night.
All of our little angels were involved in sports and a variety of other activities. We had an active church life with a great church family.
Madeline was the Den Mother for the younger boys. It was Christmas time and we were hosting a party out at our place. Little Cub Scouts were everywhere.
Madeline could talk my brother into doing anything. Santa parked his pickup up at the highway and made the 200 yard walk down the little gravel lane to the Lewis house. With a big Ho Ho Ho, Santa arrived with a sack full of toys over his shoulder. It was all just perfect. The best Santa ever.
With Ron Jr. standing beside me, I pointed out to him that something a little fishy was going on. (Ron was about 10 or 11 at that time I think) Santa had on a pair of cowboy boots.
Pulling Ron aside, I suggested that in a few minutes as Santa exited, let him get to the gate then he, Ron, could rally the little cubbies to all chase after Santa and see how fast he could run in those boots. Just as planned, when Santa had a good 50 yard head start, Ron, the twins and a whole passel of young scouts where running after him, pelting him with rocks.
It was about the funniest Santa departure you could ever imaginable.
Shortly afterwards, with Santa now dressed as Kenny, he showed up to enjoy an afternoon of partying with us.