"Hey! This is MY transformer!" screamed Cortlen when he opened his gift.
He looked at me like I had a screw loose. I assured him that wrapping up someone's possessions and regifting it to them was perfectly normal.
Cortlen cast an uneasy eye toward the packages under the tree.
While one son ran up to his room to take inventory of all of his earthly possessions, another threw his gift bag across the room. A pair of dirty socks tumbled out.
"That's not a present!" yelled Kellen as he pointed to the offensive object.
I explained that technically it was. Since I confiscate anything that is left on the ground after three requests to pick it up, the chance to reclaim the socks without having to do a chore was, in fact, a very valuable gift.
Kellen stomped into the playroom to write a thank you note and draw a picture of a blob with fangs.
Camber put her present back on the table. For some strange reason, she didn't want to open it.
"Open it! Open it!" I chanted, clapping my hands. I love watching people open presents. Giving makes me feel warm and tingly inside.
"I don't want to!" she said, folding her arms.
I explained that it was actually necessary for her to open her gift, which was shaped like a box of spaghetti noodles. I couldn't make dinner until she did.