A Traditional Friday Eve
I remember Friday Eve’s as a young boy. Waking up early in wide-eyed anticipation of what the next day will bring. There’s just something magical about Friday Eve. I don’t know if it’s the just-before-bed viewing of Twin Peaks or gorging myself on “hot dish” at Friday Eve Supper. It could have been sneaking into the liquor cabinet for the peppermint schnapps, I’m not sure.
After supper, with the hot dish still warm in our bellies we’d change into our Friday Eve jammie’s with the little button flap on the bottom. We’d hold hands and sing our favorite Friday Eve melodies.
Oh, those times
In days of yore
When Herr Freitag came a’knocking on our door
He came from near
He came from far
He came no matter where you are
Then there’s the agonizing worry in the wait for a visit from Herr Freitag. Have I been good enough? Would he bring me my shiny new Junior Outdoorsman for Kids catalog, and leave fun size candy bars in my sock drawer?
I remember, I actually caught Herr Freitag once. I woke up in the early hours of a Friday morning. It was still dark, but as I peered around I saw Herr Freitag coming in through the window, as was his way. He was dressed in his famous black sweater and ski mask. He looked at me for a long moment before he leaned in closely and conspiratorially whispered, “Quiet kid, or I’ll kick your teeth in.” I nearly fainted from excitement. Then Herr Freitag borrowed our TV. He still has it, I believe, the old fellow.