As Christmas is coming, there are presents to be bought, cards to be sent, and rooms to be cleaned. Parents are ___1___ with difficult jobs of hiding presents from curious young children. If the gifts are large, this is sometimes a real ___2___. On Christmas Eve, young children find the excitement almost unbearable. They are torn between the wish to go to bed early so that Father Christmas will bring their presents quickly and the wish to stay up late so that they will not miss the fun. The wish for gifts usually proves stronger. But though children go to bed early, they often lie awake for a long time, hoping to get a short ___3___ at Father Christmas.
Last Christmas, my wife and I successfully hid a few large presents in the storeroom. I ___4___ the moment when my son, Jimmy, would ask me where that new bike had come from, but ___5___ he did not see it.
On Christmas Eve, it took the children hours to go to sleep. It must have been nearly ___6___ when my wife and I went quietly into their room and began filling stockings. Then I pushed in the ___7___ I bought for Jimmy and left it beside the Christmas tree. We knew we would not get much sleep that night, for the children were ___8___ to get up early. At about five o’clock the next morning, we were woken by loud sounds coming from the children’s room — they were shouting excitedly! Before I had time to get out of bed, young Jimmy came riding into the room on his new bike, and his sister, Mary, followed close behind pushing her new baby carriage. Even the baby arrived. He moved ___9___ the hands and knees into the room dragging a large balloon behind him. Suddenly it burst. That woke us up ___10___. The day had really begun with a band!

The easy way out isn’t always easiest. I learned that lesson when I decided to treat Doug, my husband of one month, to a special meal. I glanced through my cook book and chose a menu which included homemade bread. Knowing the bread would take time. I started on it as soon as Doug left for work. As I was not experienced in cooking, I thought if a dozen was good, two dozen would be better, so I doubled everything. As Doug loved oranges, I also opened a can of orange and poured it all into the bowl. Soon there was a sticky dough covered with ugly yellowish marks. Realizing I had been defeated, I put the dough in the rubbish bin outside so I wouldn’t have to face Doug laughing at my work. I went on preparing the rest of the meal, and, when Doug got home, we sat down to Cornish chicken with rice. He tried to enjoy the meal but seemed disturbed. Twice he got up and went outside, saying he thought he heard a noise. The third time he left, I went to the windows to see what he was doing. Looking out, I saw Doug standing about three feet from the rubbish bin, holding the lid up with a stick and looking into the container. When I came out of the house, he dropped the stick and explained that there was something alive in out rubbish bin. Picking up the stick again, he held the lid up enough for me to see. I felt cold. But I stepped closer and looked harder. Without doubt it was my work. The hot sun had caused the dough to double in size and the fermenting yeast made the surface shake and sigh as though it were breathing. I had to admit what the living thing was and why it was there. I don't know who was more embarrassed by the whole thing—Doug or me.

The easy way out isn’t always easiest. I learned that lesson when I decided to treat Doug, my husband of one month, to a special meal. I glanced through my cook book and chose a menu which included homemade bread. Knowing the bread would take time. I started on it as soon as Doug left for work. As I was not experienced in cooking, I thought if a dozen was good, two dozen would be better, so I doubled everything. As Doug loved oranges, I also opened a can of orange and poured it all into the bowl. Soon there was a sticky dough covered with ugly yellowish marks. Realizing I had been defeated, I put the dough in the rubbish bin outside so I wouldn’t have to face Doug laughing at my work. I went on preparing the rest of the meal, and, when Doug got home, we sat down to Cornish chicken with rice. He tried to enjoy the meal but seemed disturbed. Twice he got up and went outside, saying he thought he heard a noise. The third time he left, I went to the windows to see what he was doing. Looking out, I saw Doug standing about three feet from the rubbish bin, holding the lid up with a stick and looking into the container. When I came out of the house, he dropped the stick and explained that there was something alive in out rubbish bin. Picking up the stick again, he held the lid up enough for me to see. I felt cold. But I stepped closer and looked harder. Without doubt it was my work. The hot sun had caused the dough to double in size and the fermenting yeast made the surface shake and sigh as though it were breathing. I had to admit what the living thing was and why it was there. I don't know who was more embarrassed by the whole thing—Doug or me.

The easy way out isn’t always easiest. I learned that lesson when I decided to treat Doug, my husband of one month, to a special meal. I glanced through my cook book and chose a menu which included homemade bread. Knowing the bread would take time. I started on it as soon as Doug left for work. As I was not experienced in cooking, I thought if a dozen was good, two dozen would be better, so I doubled everything. As Doug loved oranges, I also opened a can of orange and poured it all into the bowl. Soon there was a sticky dough covered with ugly yellowish marks. Realizing I had been defeated, I put the dough in the rubbish bin outside so I wouldn’t have to face Doug laughing at my work. I went on preparing the rest of the meal, and, when Doug got home, we sat down to Cornish chicken with rice. He tried to enjoy the meal but seemed disturbed. Twice he got up and went outside, saying he thought he heard a noise. The third time he left, I went to the windows to see what he was doing. Looking out, I saw Doug standing about three feet from the rubbish bin, holding the lid up with a stick and looking into the container. When I came out of the house, he dropped the stick and explained that there was something alive in out rubbish bin. Picking up the stick again, he held the lid up enough for me to see. I felt cold. But I stepped closer and looked harder. Without doubt it was my work. The hot sun had caused the dough to double in size and the fermenting yeast made the surface shake and sigh as though it were breathing. I had to admit what the living thing was and why it was there. I don't know who was more embarrassed by the whole thing—Doug or me.

The easy way out isn’t always easiest. I learned that lesson when I decided to treat Doug, my husband of one month, to a special meal. I glanced through my cook book and chose a menu which included homemade bread. Knowing the bread would take time. I started on it as soon as Doug left for work. As I was not experienced in cooking, I thought if a dozen was good, two dozen would be better, so I doubled everything. As Doug loved oranges, I also opened a can of orange and poured it all into the bowl. Soon there was a sticky dough covered with ugly yellowish marks. Realizing I had been defeated, I put the dough in the rubbish bin outside so I wouldn’t have to face Doug laughing at my work. I went on preparing the rest of the meal, and, when Doug got home, we sat down to Cornish chicken with rice. He tried to enjoy the meal but seemed disturbed. Twice he got up and went outside, saying he thought he heard a noise. The third time he left, I went to the windows to see what he was doing. Looking out, I saw Doug standing about three feet from the rubbish bin, holding the lid up with a stick and looking into the container. When I came out of the house, he dropped the stick and explained that there was something alive in out rubbish bin. Picking up the stick again, he held the lid up enough for me to see. I felt cold. But I stepped closer and looked harder. Without doubt it was my work. The hot sun had caused the dough to double in size and the fermenting yeast made the surface shake and sigh as though it were breathing. I had to admit what the living thing was and why it was there. I don't know who was more embarrassed by the whole thing—Doug or me.