Hypnotizing People

i need to write a memoir with details that appeal to the five senses?

anyone wanna help me include a few sensory details or edit my grammar?

My first Christmas memory was the early morning of Christmas in 1998. It was cold and the weather was dry. My lips were as dry as a towel and I was capable of tasting the blood when I rubbed my tongue against my lips. I layed on my bed with my brother by my side. I stayed up all night waiting for Santa Clause to put down my present on my Christmas stocking, but after hours of waiting not a shadow have moved.
I had tried multiple times on other Christmas to catch Santa Clause, but I always got too tired and fell asleep. On the Christmas of 1996, I found out from my parents that it was Santa Clause that climbs into people’s houses and give presents to kids that have been good. After knowing this, lots of questions popped in to my mind. How does he find out if I have been good or not? How does he know what presents I want when I only gave my Christmas wish lists to my parents? The next year, I decided to stay up to wait for Santa Clause. I tried a lot of methods to stay awake. Slapping myself on the face is the most memorable one because it is the dumbest thing I have ever done.
This time, I have learned a way to stay up without slapping myself. I drank a lot of my mother’s coffee before I went to sleep. The coffee made me hyper and energetic so I was able to stay awake. I never noticed how scary the house looked at night. The street lights reflected the shadow of a tree through my bedroom window. The shadow looked like a demon with evil claws attacking the wall. I closed my eyes to get the scary images out of my mind, but the caffeine from the coffee would not let me. I wished the sun could rise to the sky and cover the scary darkness of the nights with the bright sunlight of the day.
After a few hours, I could hear the birds singing to each other. The sun started to rise slowly and the demons on my walls began to fade away. I was glad that the darkness has disappeared, but I was disappointed that I didn’t get to see Santa Clause and ask him my questions. The effect of the caffeine was getting weak and my eyes lid became as heavy as a boulder. Just as I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, I heard a weak chatter outside the living room. I jumped off the bed and dashed for the living room with the anticipation to meet Santa Clause. If a fly got in my way, it would be crushed because I was running at full force.
When I arrived by our mini Christmas tree, I was really confused because I saw my parents holding my presents. I went up to ask them what was going on. They looked nervous and started whispering in each other’s ears. My father picked me up, held me in his arm, and told me that Santa Clause came earlier to hand them the presents. I looked around, but I did not see Santa Clause anywhere, so I asked my parents where he went. They whispered in each other’s ears again. My father, carrying me, began to head for my bed room while my mother tried to hypnotize me by constantly saying it is just a dream. I was not the smartest kid on the block but I was smart enough to know that it was not a dream.

i need some sensory details in this thing, 1 for each senses…

anyone wanna give me some ideas for the sensory details?

My first Christmas memory was the early morning of Christmas in 1998. It was cold and the weather was dry. My lips were as dry as a towel and I was capable of tasting the blood when I rubbed my tongue against my lips. I layed on my bed with my brother by my side. I stayed up all night waiting for Santa Clause to put down my present on my Christmas stocking, but after hours of waiting not a shadow have moved.
I had tried multiple times on other Christmas to catch Santa Clause, but I always got too tired and fell asleep. On the Christmas of 1996, I found out from my parents that it was Santa Clause that climbs into people’s houses and give presents to kids that have been good. After knowing this, lots of questions popped in to my mind. How does he find out if I have been good or not? How does he know what presents I want when I only gave my Christmas wish lists to my parents? The next year, I decided to stay up to wait for Santa Clause. I tried a lot of methods to stay awake. Slapping myself on the face is the most memorable one because it is the dumbest thing I have ever done.
This time, I have learned a way to stay up without slapping myself. I drank a lot of my mother’s coffee before I went to sleep. The coffee made me hyper and energetic so I was able to stay awake. I never noticed how scary the house looked at night. The street lights reflected the shadow of a tree through my bedroom window. The shadow looked like a demon with evil claws attacking the wall. I closed my eyes to get the scary images out of my mind, but the caffeine from the coffee would not let me. I wished the sun could rise to the sky and cover the scary darkness of the nights with the bright sunlight of the day.
After a few hours, I could hear the birds singing to each other. The sun started to rise slowly and the demons on my walls began to fade away. I was glad that the darkness has disappeared, but I was disappointed that I didn’t get to see Santa Clause and ask him my questions. The effect of the caffeine was getting weak and my eyes lid became as heavy as a boulder. Just as I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, I heard a weak chatter outside the living room. I jumped off the bed and dashed for the living room with the anticipation to meet Santa Clause. If a fly got in my way, it would be crushed because I was running at full force.
When I arrived by our mini Christmas tree, I was really confused because I saw my parents holding my presents. I went up to ask them what was going on. They looked nervous and started whispering in each other’s ears. My father picked me up, held me in his arm, and told me that Santa Clause came earlier to hand them the presents. I looked around, but I did not see Santa Clause anywhere, so I asked my parents where he went. They whispered in each other’s ears again. My father, carrying me, began to head for my bed room while my mother tried to hypnotize me by constantly saying it is just a dream. I was not the smartest kid on the block but I was smart enough to know that it was not a dream.