"Because they have to fix their hair and their
faces and look presentable. Actually, young men do
the same thing."
He thought for a moment and looked down at
himself still dressed in his pajamas, bathrobe and
slippers.
"Okay.I'll brush my hair and meet you here in
a few minutes!" he exclaimed and scurried off. I
laughed and got out of bed. I washed my face free of
sleep, and brushed my hair a little, knowing that
Momma would never leave her room looking like I
did. But Momma wasn't always right, I thought. More
than ever, I was thinking that now. I put on my robe
and found Troy waiting impatiently for me in my
sitting room. He seized my hand the moment I
appeared and led me downstairs. Then he attacked the
presents. Mrs. Hastings appeared behind me,
laughing.
"Merry Christmas," she said.
"Merry Christmas."
"I'll see about breakfast, if you'd like," she offered. "Thank you, Mrs. Hastings. Let's hope we can pry him away from the gifts long enough to eat," I added. I knelt down beside Troy and helped him
unwrap his presents first.
His biggest present was his own television set.
There was one in the den, but now he would have one
for his own room.
"I've got to get it up to my room," he said
excitedly.
"Wait. There's time for that, Troy. Look at the
other gifts first."
"Okay. And you look at yours, too. I gave you