As we prepare to make new Christmas memories this morning, I am reminded of one from 12 years ago, when Clara was three years old and Charlie was still an infant.
I’ll never forget it.
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It’s 9:00 AM on Christmas morning. Things are not going as expected.
After opening a few presents, including three books I had to read aloud before we could continue unwrapping, my daughter told us that she was tired of opening presents and wanted to practice her numbers on my computer.
So now she is sitting at the table, typing the numbers 1-10 and asking how to make 14, 19, 22, and so on.
There is still a pile of presents under the tree, including her best gift, but she wants nothing to do with them.
“When I’m done with my numbers, let’s eat breakfast,” she says. “I’m hungry.”
“Do you want to open presents first?” I ask.
“No!” she says. “No more presents!”
At this rate, these presents may never get opened.
Honestly, has something like this ever happened in the history of humankind?
I adore nonconformity, and her lack of materialism warms my soul, but this is ridiculous.
