All the presents are wrapped. The stockings are ready to be filled. All that’s left is for Santa to show up and move everything into place in the dark of night.
Sometimes Christmas seems more like a deadline than anything else. But when all the goals are met with a day to spare, the relief makes the enjoyment of the Holiday all that much sweeter.
Not that my family is hard to buy gifts for. You don’t have to ask them twice what they would like.
The Kindergartener has made a cottage industry of asking for things. Any toy that is advertised on TV, he wants. Even if the toy is marketed toward girls, he’ll take it. He may not plan to use it as was intended, but Barbie’s jeep can always be cannibalized for spare parts. He wouldn’t look a gift Pretty Little Pony in the mouth. With a few, well-placed scuffs and a shave, it can be turned into a War Horse.
There are some particular toys he would most like to have, but he’ll tell you he wants every toy just in case you go through all the really good ones and still have some extra cash burning a hole in your pocket that you need to spend on a five-year-old. It would be a crying shame if you bought all the toys on his list and then stopped because you mistakenly believed he didn’t want the rest of the toys in the world.
Getting one last good play out of these old toy soldiers before Santa comes and overshadows them with new toys.
The one-year-old isn’t picky. A good toy to him is whatever feels good in his hand at the moment. It could be a clothes pin or a glass Christmas tree ornament. The only implied stipulation, where Buster is concerned, is that he would prefer that his presents be aerodynamic, should he decide to throw them at his brother’s head on the merest whim.
My wife compiles a short, but solid, list of presents she would gratefully accept. She takes the extra trouble to be very specific, in order that her new gift can be fully integrated with her past gifts. In fact, she would prefer it if I would let her go pick it out herself, just to be on the safe side. Once her “big ticket” present meets her specifications, I am free to add any lesser gifts to the periphery, just as I wish.
I am the most difficult person to get a gift for in our house. My wife fumes when I list things to her like shirts and slippers. She wants me to want something more special. Nobody understands how important slippers are to me. I hate walking on tile floors in socks. When your husband has psychological problems like this, buy him slippers. He and his prissy little toes will love you.
When it comes down to it, what more could I want? Tomorrow morning, my favorite gifts will be dumping out stockings and tearing through wrapping paper like it’s . . . well . . . Christmas.
Snoozing on the Sofa 
so very sweet I remember when my son was that young.. so sweet
He hopes Santa thinks so too.
My dad always wanted warm socks for Christmas because he worked outside in the cold quite a bit. My mom would get him everything in the world except for socks because she thought socks was a stupid Christmas gift. If a man says he wants socks or slippers, then get him socks or slippers! Did you see that video where that airline surprised all those passengers on Christmas? I would be pissed if I were the man who asked for socks and underpants in that situation. Anyway, Merry Christmas to you guys! It’s been nice getting to meet your little family this year. I look forward to 2014 and your adventures in late night feedings/changings/etc.
Lesson learned: when the gift isn’t coming out of the family checking account, ask for something expensive.
It’s been a fun year of blogging. Merry Christmas to your family and I expect to have another year of enjoying your hijinks.
I hope you get some good shots of all the present carnage tomorrow. Merry Christmas to you and your family!
I all goes so fast. I hope my camera can keep up. Merry Christmas to you and yours.
Reblogged this on Roy F. McCampbell's Blog.
Thanks for sharing. Merry Christmas.
Our five-year-olds are frighteningly similar. When mine is watching television and the toy commercials come one, he just softly starts a chant of “I want that. I want that. I want that.” And that lasts until the show comes back on. And like your son, he doesn’t discriminate again the girl toys either. So naturally, this post had me laughing my ass off. Hope you guys have a Merry Christmas!
I love how they start telling you they want it, before it’s even clear what the toy is. It’s automatic. Pavlov wasted all that time studying dogs; all he needed was five-year-old and a cartoon channel.
Merry Christmas to you and your family.
I hope you had a wonderful day with your family. Merry Christmas!
I did indeed. Hope you had the same.
And a Happy New Year!