Christmas time! Cards, presents, decorating and wrapping. Parents running around like crazy trying to prepare and get everything needed for the holidays. Usually, one staying home to watch the kids, while the other goes from store to store looking for the perfect gifts for everyone. This is what normally happens right?

My second Christmas (the first real one), my mother needs to go to the stores and get presents and decorations. She asked my father Joe to stay with me, so she could go and get back. It is never fun running around in chaos with a 13-month-old.

My mother said she returned a couple of hours later and started to unload the car. She could hear my screams coming from inside the house. She immediately ran to the door to quickly realize that she did not have her house key and the door was locked.  She began to pound on the door for Joe to come and unlock it.

Joe was not coming to the door and my screaming was not settling. My mother began to check all the windows looking and hoping for one to be unlocked.  There were no open or unlocked windows. She did what I would have done. She broke a window to get into the house with every worst nightmare flashing through her mind.

She began to run throughout the house looking for me. When she set eyes on me, she could not fathom what happened, it was not making sense to her. She immediately grabbed me and began to look over me for cuts or any sign of injury. There was no real injury, just fear.

I was sitting in the middle of a collapsed crib in my bedroom! How does this happen? Where was Joe? How long ago did it collapse? I’m sure or at least hope these were all questions she had. They are questions I still have. My biggest question is how many drunks does it take to put a crib together? Apparently more then what they had.

My mother holding me and trying to calm me, went to look for Joe. Something must be seriously wrong if I’m sitting in a collapsed crib crying so loud that I was heard outside. Where was he? What happened to him that he didn’t come running when his baby was crying?

We made our way into the living room where we would find Joe. He did not look injured, he was breathing he appeared to be very ok physically. At this point, he should have begun to wish he was not ok. He was laying so peacefully on the couch. He was passed out DRUNK!!!

Who gets so drunk that they pass out while caring for their child? So drunk that your baby’s screaming and crying does not wake you in an instance to run to their side? These are the questions that I will never fully understand or have answers to. This was not just a questionable situation for my father, but for my mother as well.

How long was he drinking before she thought it was a good idea to leave me with him? Was she really going Christmas shopping or was there more to it? Did they have a fight and she wanted to go drink as well? I do not know, nor do I think I will ever fully understand.

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