The holidays

I surely can't keep a blog about being a parent without something said about the holidays. So here it goes.

There's a big difference between age 5 and age 2 when it comes to gift-getting. A two-year-old is handed a gift, says, "A plezent? Fo me?", takes it, places it (still wrapped) on the floor, and goes back to playing with an empty paper towel tube. A five-year-old plans for weeks in advance regarding what she needs for a gift, how she will react, how she will inform all her preschool friends of her newly-obtained booty, how she will write thank-you notes to her parents, her grandparents, the president and the governor, and how she will redesign the layout of her bedroom (sorry, her princess castle) to make space for the new item. She will then check every hour on the hour before the holiday begins to make sure the wrapped gift is where she last spotted it, and to inform her family of exactly how she will undo each piece of tape holding the wrapping in place. She will then eat only the exact amount of her dinner allowable by household law such that she can quickly and efficiently be excused from the table in order to take the fullest advantage of the statement, "we'll open presents after dinner" that came from an authority figure. Upon opening the gift she will then proclaim the wonder of the item by charging through the house at just under the speed of sound, screaming and yelling unintelligible things that can only be assumed to be the five-year-old equivalent of, "hey, neat." Her father will then spend the next 45 minutes attempting to get the item out of it's packaging, slicing a finger off in the process. She will then play with the item for approximately eight minutes, break it, promptly forget about its existence, and steal her sister's paper towel tube.