My mother and I lived together for many years. She was only around fifteen when I was born, so we were more like sisters than mother and daughter.
My greatest joy was to try to surprise her at Christmas.
I always got her a real gift I thought she’d like.
But we liked to play jokes on each other every few Christmases as well.
One year, I put a big box about twelve inches square under the tree almost three weeks before Christmas.
One of the most wonderful things about mom was tat she had the outlook of a child on things like birthdays and Christmases.
She would shake the box, examine it, and all the things kids do when they get presents.
That year, I put two pennies and a marble in the box.
The real gift was a blouse I knew she would like. It was in a smaller box inside the big one.
About a week before Christmas, she picked that box up and shook it. It rattled of course, and the box inside slid around in the loose balls of paper around it.
You should have seen her face.
It was wonderful. Here was this woman of sixty three going crazy over that gift.
She often guessed what was in a present, but not that year.
At that same Christmas, her sister took two broomsticks, and a shorter cross stick, then covered them in toilet paper.
Really weird looking under the Christmas paper.
When the two gifts were unwrapped, no one laughed harder than mom.
She died in 1999. How I miss her.
Hope this fits the criteria.