The Boy woke up first at about 6 am which is totally unusual. He's the kid I drag out of bed twenty minutes before school, shove into some clothes like an inept valet, and force feed a slice of toast as we're running out the door. So, you'd think his reason for getting up at 6 on Christmas was to open gifts. No. He was hungry. The Girl followed next around 7 am and immediately started doing an inventory of presents. When she finished her gift census she flopped down on the couch in a very teenager-y way and declared that this would be the worst Christmas ever. The Boy's big gift was a basketball backboard and it was sitting, unwrapped, under the tree because the elves were like, "Screw that, Santa. There's not enough wrapping paper at the North Pole CVS to cover that up." The Girl and the Baby's presents from Santa were wrapped by their stockings. Somehow the Girl could tell from looking at her wrapped present that it was going to be terribly disappointing and unfairly paltry when compared with the Boy's basketball goal. She moaned and groaned and carried on about her disaster of a Christmas until I could stand it no longer.
Me: You want to hear a story about a disappointing Christmas?
The Girl: No, not really.
Me: Good. I'm going to tell you about what happened to Daddy when he was your age.
The Girl: But, I don't want...
Me: When Daddy was a kid he really, really wanted a Bowie knife for Christmas.
The Girl: What's that?
Me: It's this:
The Girl: That looks kinda dangerous.
Me: It is and you are never allowed to have one. But, Daddy grew up in Mississippi and needed it to skin possums and squirrels to take to school in his lunch pail. Anyway, on Christmas morning there was a box wrapped up under the tree and it was the size and shape of a Bowie knife and it was for Daddy. He was so excited to open the gift. He just knew that it was going to be the knife. So, Daddy ripped off the paper and opened the box. Do you know what was inside?
The Girl: The knife?
Me: A lint brush.
The Girl: What?
Me: This thing:
The Girl: Oh no.
Me: Oh yes. I promise you, there are no lint brushes in any of your Christmas gifts.
I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas, or a fantastic time at the movies (did you see Le Mis?) and eating Chinese food. And, I sincerely hope that you were not disappointed by receiving a lint brush that you hoped was a Bowie knife.
Tell Girl about the year my dad got me a Juice Newton album by accident instead of Olivia Newton John (I can't think of an appropriate comparison maybe not quite as bad as Perry Como instead of Katy Perry!)
ReplyDeleteThanks for the laugh- read it to Neal and Michael and Elaine
Ha! I bet that was disappointing! I'm glad that you've recovered.
DeleteI got a set of 3 Thai cookbooks one year. I hate Thai. The giver, however, does not.
ReplyDeleteOne Thai cookbook is more than enough.
DeleteDon't you love when you have the perfect childhood story to put 'em in their place? That was an exceptionally good one! Tell me that she was ultimately happy with her big (smaller sized) gift. Well, A ended our gift opening with "This is the best Christmas ever!" while Sasha said, "More!"
ReplyDeleteMerry Christmas!
She was very happy with her gift, once she stopped imagining it would be a pack of markers and a paper plate or whatever she was thinking. Glad you all had a good Christmas, too.
DeleteMatt got a lint roller in his stocking, but he also got a carving knife, so it turned out just fine.
ReplyDeleteI hope it was this year and not when he was 9. If it was when he was a kid, what's with parents thinking little boys are concerned about lint on their clothing? I can assure you that the little boys I know are not even concerned with wearing clothes.
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