Scrooge Things

When I phoned my brother this weekend, Thing 1 had no interest in telling me what he wanted for Christmas. "It's not even close to Christmas!" I heard him grumble in the background after he refused to come to the phone.

Eventually, Thing 2 came to the phone to say, "Hello, Ashy. I want video games." He just left it at that.

After I pressed by brother for more info, I learned that the one gift certain to please Thing 1 is cash, and lots of it. He wants it not so much to spend on the specific things he wants. He just likes to have it around. I don't blame him. Each Christmas, family members overwhelm Thing 1 and Thing 2 with shiny, blinking trinkets and dood-dads. And what good are these things?

I like to image that if only I chose the right presents, the Things will open them and their eyes will sparkle and widen with wonder. "Oh, cooool!" they will exclaim. "This is the best present ever!!!" These gifts will be so brilliant because the Things didn't even know that they wanted them. So much holiday cheer will radiate in their little kid hearts that their house cannot contain it and it will be instantly transmitted half way across the country and into my heart. But this is just a dream. The reality is that after an orgy of unwrapping and feasting, the children are more likely to implode than to exude some kind of transcendent joy. It would be a miracle if they thought to say, "Thank you."

So forget my auntish desires to knit adorable hats (even if a little boy really wanted an adorable hat, he'd have to be incredibly brave to admit it) or spend hours searching for the perfect fun yet educational gifts for the 'phews. It's cash that brings a twinkle to little boys' eyes. Maybe I'll throw in a couple of books, too.