- Tom Waits
I have a problem thinking my life should mirror lives shown in Christmas movies. Schroeder should play the piano while I dance. Townspeople should crowd around me as I discover how my life has touched many other lives. A single tear should coarse down my face as I open the most perfect, meaningful gift, ever.
It was a REALLY cold Sunday, and I needed a project for my dear children. A "Hallmark Vision" twinkled in my head. I would take the kids to Target (Ouch! Not local, I know.) and they would choose meaningful gifts for their grandmother. Their grandmother who insists they stay well hydrated. Their grandmother who actually watches Wow, Wow Wubzy with them. Their grandmother who lets them jump off furniture. Their grandmother who loves them to pieces.
I envisioned things to unfold like this:
Leonard: Can I please buy this GreenPan so grandma can cook healthy, eco-groovy breakfasts for us? I don't want Grandma to be eating toxins. Please!!!
Gus: Look at this cuddly purple blanket! Can I buy this so Grandma and I can snuggle under it while watching Despicable Me for the 34th time?
Lulu: Mom! Here is a tiara! Grandma needs this because she is a beautiful princess.
While driving the kids to Target I explained what fun we would have, choosing gifts, and making sure Grandma had meaningful presents to open on Christmas. (Yes. I did branch off on the "it is better to give than receive" tangent. Children under 10 just aren't buying it.)
Here is what the kids chose for their beloved grandmother:
|Nothing Says "I Love You" like a 6 inch battery operated Christmas tree. PLUS! It's flocked!|
|Grandmas wear old sweaters, don't they? Now their ornaments can too!|