Again in Slidell, but earlier, so 1978 or 1979: my sister and I (these were the pre-brother days) got up Christmas morning to get our Stuff. Bonanza! We both got fake fur jackets: Sissa’s was grey and mine was cream with brown fake-suede trim. I also got a David Cassidy album AND a wee guitar, so I was all up with my bad rock star self. I was the most genius 9- (or possibly 10-) year-old rock star the world had seen! Somewhere in there, Sissa possibly was having fun too. Seems likely, even if she did not have a guitar or suede trim on her jacket.

My dad wandered off to make the traditional Christmas morning breakfast (Canadian bacon, scrambled eggs, English muffins, juice).

“OH NO WHAT’S THIS?” he yelled. Who cared? We had Presents. “QUICK, COME HERE!” Yeah, yeah, whatever.
“You should go see,” my mom said. No thanks.
“Go. See.”

Mom Voice necessitates moving. We moved. My dad was standing by the fireplace, holding up the game Hungry Hungry Hippos.

“This was behind the chair!” he said. “Santa must have dropped it when he came down the chimney!”

Sissa and I fell on the floor. Incontrovertible proof! Fallen present by the fireplace! I had been starting to Doubt, but this kept me going for another year or two (which lends evidence to its being 1978). It was clear to me that Santa was 4 realz, yo, because there was an extra present, right where it would make sense for him to drop it. Most excellent. Almost as good as David Cassidy.

Note: Hungry Hungry Hippos is a REALLY fun game, though not as fun as Pig Pong.