Someone asked my daughter if she had her Christmas list done yet. “No,” she said. “Not yet.”
My jaw dropped out of my mouth. Oh yeah? Then what were all those sheets of paper littering my desk? They had piled up so high I thought a family of opossums had built a den on there. There were lists of animal figures with prices and multiple checkboxes next to them.
So what were all those lists?
Oh, simple, she said. They are just things she wants … but not specifically for Christmas.
To be a kid!
And at Christmas, no less. When you can dream big and put anything you want on a piece of paper and hope for the best. A real, live lioness and cub. A jumbo jet with spare tire. A teleportation kit (Real. Not fake!) To be taller. Why not? Put it on. It’s Christmas. A magical time. Dream big, or go home. That’s a kid’s motto. I always loved putting together my list when I was little. The sky was limit. And I asked for the sky once, too.
But to be a parent, the gift list can be an all-enveloping, time-eating, stress-inducing whirlwind. And not because of the kid. Rather, it’s all the people asking what they should buy the kid.
“What’s on her Christmas list?” they all want to know. No, no. That’s not right. They don’t “want to know.” They don’t ask to know. They DE-MAND to know. “Tell me! Quick! Hurry! Before someone else finds out and gets it first!”
It’s like stock market insider information. An illegal, black market commodity that people will pay money for.
“My good friend Ben Franklin here says you might know what my granddaughter wants for Christmas.”
No, no. I’m not taking a bribe to tell you … Well, maybe just this once. But I’ll have you know this is an outrage!
As parents, you become the equivalent of air traffic controllers, desperately trying to keep track of all the incoming wants, then divvying them out to family members and tracking each one as it goes off the radar.
“Yankee-one-niner, I’ve got a Barbie Does Her Taxes playset taxiing to takeoff for Aunt Martha.”
The calls have started coming fast and furious. But luckily there are cousins in the picture this year — new kids who can help release some of the pressure.
“What does Amelie want for Christmas?!?” my mother will ask.
“Um … uh … Well, what does Striker want for Christmas?” I ask about my 1-year-old nephew. “LOOK! There he is! Quick everyone run!”
Do I feel good about it? No. But Christmas list dodging is just part of the season. And unfortunately when it comes to family, the old adage that it is better to give than to receive is, too.