By Donna Batis-Wungnema
For the Appeal
My favorite time of day to talk on the phone was always after school. My mom and dad weren't home from work yet. I was in charge. I would talk for hours. Then when my dad came home, I quickly got off the phone.
It was as if he didn't know I was on the phone. He knew. My dad had a sixth sense about me being on the phone.
I think my dad had little antennas in his head with an extra radar system, because as soon as he walked in the front door, he would give me the "you just got off the phone" look.
Christmas was just around the corner, and I really wanted a Princess Phone for my bedroom. I put in my order to Santa and hoped that my wish would come true.
As the days passed by, I would mark off each day with an X. As I looked at the calendar, it was getting closer and closer to Christmas. Finally, it was Christmas Eve. I was bubbling over with excitement. I couldn't sleep too well because all I could think of was talking on my Princess Phone.
In my mind's eye, I could see the Princess Phone. It had a light built into it. When you picked up the receiver, the light was just enough to see the rotary dial. I would be lying on my bed talking away into the wee hours of the night. I would be laughing, but not too loud so my dad wouldn't hear me.
All of a sudden I woke to the sounds of my brother and sister running down the hall yelling, "It's Christmas, it's Christmas!" I quickly jumped out of bed and ran to the front room. There, sitting under the tree, was a medium-sized box wrapped in red foil with a green bow with my name on it.
As I ripped the paper off, I saw the name on the box: Princess Phone. Color: Pink.
As the years have passed, I have never forgotten all the good times that I had talking on my Princess Phone. That Christmas in 1960 was magical. It was a year of expressing yourself. Imagine, to be able to talk into the wee hours of the night with a light in your phone. This was truly magic. Thanks, Santa!
