Why are we bad at asking for things?
The older you get the harder it is to write a straightforward Christmas list; a simple, readable ledger of the things you unabashedly want. There’s so many pseudo-lists out there brainstorming ideas for him and her, for mom and dad, and the dog. We wouldn’t need any of these if people just told us what they wanted. But they don’t.
I know we like giving gifts, but why are we so shy as gift getters? We aren’t usually. All year long we command the Amazon elves to bring us whatever we want in two days time and not a day later, but the moment someone asks us what we want for Christmas, our material desires turn to pudding. We become suddenly unworldly and philosophical, saying things like we just want happiness, or we’re looking forward to quality time more than anything, or I really don’t need anything this year, and my recent favorite, I don’t want presents, I want Presence. Oh barf.
Children are not like this. Which is why they’re so much more delightful to watch unwrap their presents than their parents on the couch. They have not been jaded by years of grey cableknit sweaters and mile long return lines at Kohl’s. Their imaginations are still green. They want things. They exult in gifts. They’ll take their gifts and poach their sibling’s too. They know that gifts are surprising, fun, and often very funny. If I’ve learned anything from the children in my home, it’s that they’re bold, brash, and foot-stomping clear about their want, and I admire that.
Historically my Christmas lists are written on the wing, and find their way into my mother’s purse on approximately December 23rd. This year I’m going to be early. I’m going to write the goods down in plain English and check it twice, and skip the nonsense about, don’t worry if you can’t find any of this.
Some of you might be wondering: doesn’t a list ruin the surprise? Never. Not with the Santa’s I know. Under our tree there are always surprises. And there are always a core set of nonnegotiables that will fall into my stocking without fail. They include: a fresh pack of underwear I don’t wear, a fresh pack of socks I’m not sure about, pens I will absolutely use, and the moneymaker: a dollar tree shower comb for my long long tresses.
show & tell 