The Gift Horse

The countdown for Christmas is on, and Cael couldn't be more enthusiastic about penning a letter to Santa to instruct him, in what I would guess will be no uncertain terms, which gifts he would like to see under the tree come Christmas morning.  But I've been struggling to make him realize that there are important things that will happen before Christmas, and they deserve some attention, too.

First I tried to explain why we celebrate Thanksgiving, which simply disintegrated into a conversation about his being raised by "pugrums" (pilgrims) and didn't succeed in helping him appreciate our heritage at all.  Not even a little bit.

I'm letting that one go for now, I guess, and concentrating my efforts on Joel's birthday, which (this year) falls on Black Friday.  I've already gotten his gift, which was purchased amid a frenzy of cart boxing and hair-pulling as I waited for an employee to answer a question for, like, forever.  Once home, I was awash with immediate regret as Cael wandered around the house reciting, "I'm gonna tell Daddy that we got him a _ _ _ _ _ _!"

From now on, he stays at home or we put a bag over his head.

Not wanting to be left out, however, my big boy has latched on to the idea of getting Daddy a gift of his choosing, and one that clearly doesn't involve my input.  It's not that I am opposed to the idea, but knowing my son as I do, I can predict the inevitable meltdown that will occur when I'm not willing to purchase a Polar Express replica train.  You know, for Daddy.

So I encouraged Cael to do a little more thinking.



...It's the thought that counts, right?