I’ve been a borderline Bah-Humbug for some years now. I can feel it rising in my throat from November on like a cat with a hairball.
I love everything about Christmas. Good food, sparkly lights, family around, lots of cookies. Except one thing.
Don’t get me wrong. I love giving a gift (even buying a gift!) for someone I love, when I know it’s something they really want and they’re going to be really excited. But how many of the presents you bought this year fit that bill? If it was up to me, we’d only spend maybe $100 for Christmas. But of course, it’s not. Hubby’s family celebrates the Capitalist season in a relatively subdued and modest manner, but not modest enough for me. His parents have really risen on the pay scale since he grew up and, though I know it makes his mom slightly embarrassed, they’re now what I consider rich (might just be upper-middle by other standards…)
And, being very generous people who adore their kids, they want to share the wealth with us. Which means loads of presents. For us, and especially for their grandkids. Who can resist the combination of kids, toys and Christmas?
I got my Toddler one thing. A tool box of her very own. (A girl’s never too young for her first set of tools) And I don’t mean a plastic toy tool kit, I mean real working tools. A crescent wrench, tape measure, blunt-ended racheting screw driver, wooden mallet and little flashlight. Plus two sizes of nuts and bolts, and a cool tool box with lots of compartments. No, I don’t expect her to start doing household repairs, but she’s always pilfering our tools, loves ‘em. And really they’re great educational toys.
That was my contribution to the tree. But of course only one of about 25 presents.
But, let me tell you, my little girl stole my heart this Christmas. There will be plenty of years in our future for her to grow up into a good little capitalist present-counter, and I will love her right through it. But this year, her third Christmas in the world and really her first old enough to understand what packages meant, she was a pure and sweet embodiment of true Christmas.
She opened her first present, loved it, played with it engrossed. Someone handed her another. She reluctantly stopped playing with the first to open the next. Repeat. After the third one, she said, “No. You open it.” (She’s pretty sassy for a two year old.)
Lo and behold, she just wanted to appreciate what she already had.
Here’s hoping that you managed to do even a little of that in this beautiful, perverted season.
Merry Christmas everyone.