My daughter came out of school today with a present from Santa, all wrapped nicely with a gaudy bow on the top. HE had visited to hear the children sing Jingle Bells, apparently. Throughout the short journey through the mountainous snow back to the car, my daughter proceeded to ask me no less than 3 million times if she could open her present as soon as she got home. I replied that no, she couldn’t- she could wait until Christmas. Until I cracked and thought- to hell with it, live a little. We opened the present as soon as we were back at the car with the baby safely strapped in and the heater blaring. I’m that kind of mummy, today at least.
Today I have lived for the moment and I suppose I have allowed my daughter the same privilege. There are are some mums who collect their children with neatly styled hair and impossibly clean jeans, their children always ever-so neatly turned out and polite. Not that my daughter is rude, she is just sometimes a little scruffy, that’s all. Anyway, I get the impression that those mums will not have given in so easily to demands for early presents. I bet those mums will take their perfectly painted toe-nails straight back home and place their child’s gift carefully under the tree so that on Christmas morning they may exclaim, ‘Oh, look Jonty! It’s that quaint little gift that Santa brought to school! Oh, do open, do open!’ Or maybe not. The point is, I suppose that today i have chosen to choose my battles. And when faced with an early glimpse of the excitement that is Christmas, hell- I would want to open my gift early too!
So, fess up. What type of mum are you today? Will you let them open the gift, or will you make them wait? Did I tell you I’m off to buy a new hoover tomorrow? I simply cannot wait.
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