It hadn't started out that way. Tank (aka Tetanka), who mows lawns and shovels driveways
when he isn't caddying, wanted a snow blower.
I ran the idea of a used blower past Coach. When he shook his head and failed to cough up
any other suggestions, I decided to forge ahead unassisted. This year he would be as surprised as the kids come Christmas morning. Besides, it seemed like any discussions I
introduced about my quest to keep to a budget, score good deals, and identify
ideal gifts were largely ignored. In addition to
tuning out of the gift purchases, there were other indicators that proved that
Coach and I prepared for Christmas in different ways.
Around mid-December Tank required a physical for
basketball tryouts . . . by the next day. These damn physicals sneak up on me. I swear I have everyone up to date for school
or sports and then another one pops up that somehow fell off of my radar. With no available appointments at our
pediatrician, we were limited to a nearby minute clinic. I assumed Coach would handle the physical while
I dropped the girls at Irish dancing class 25 minutes away. Then he informed me that he had hoped to
attend a confession service at Church that night and the physical would
interfere.
I dropped the girls off at dancing and raced back to relieve him from the waiting room at the doc in a box. He drove to church a few minutes before I arrived, but told the disenchanted receptionist that I would arrive shortly to take over. I wondered what it would be like if I was able to share the Christmas responsibilities and focus on what mattered. How lovely that he had time to attend an extra church service while I only had time to shop, wrap, address cards, lick envelopes, run to the post office, order online, bake, decorate, dig out Christmas outfits for the crew, create excellent gift hiding spots, and check it all off of my list. I prayed that God would forgive me.
I dropped the girls off at dancing and raced back to relieve him from the waiting room at the doc in a box. He drove to church a few minutes before I arrived, but told the disenchanted receptionist that I would arrive shortly to take over. I wondered what it would be like if I was able to share the Christmas responsibilities and focus on what mattered. How lovely that he had time to attend an extra church service while I only had time to shop, wrap, address cards, lick envelopes, run to the post office, order online, bake, decorate, dig out Christmas outfits for the crew, create excellent gift hiding spots, and check it all off of my list. I prayed that God would forgive me.
One evening Mini entered the study unannounced and begged me
to take the available, non-driving kids to Target where they could shop for
their secret Santa sibling. I quickly
closed out of the Craigslist window where I was searching for used American Girl Dolls, and agreed that this night would be our
last opportunity. With other things to
accomplish I urged the youngest four to grab their funds, zip on a coat, and
hop in the car. Three kids scattered
like salt on ice when we entered the store.
Curly was glued to my side whispering to me that she was always stuck
shopping for someone 'bad.'
I easily translated her 'bad' terminology to describe a difficult kid to shop for, not necessarily a kid with a behavior problem. Last year she ended up shopping for Laddie and this year she had picked Eddie's name from the hat. I tried to instill some confidence in her that I could help her select a gift for him, but I had few ideas myself. On the drive over we had elected to increase the spending amount from $10 to $15. Still, there wasn't much at Target in that price range that Eddie would get excited about.
I easily translated her 'bad' terminology to describe a difficult kid to shop for, not necessarily a kid with a behavior problem. Last year she ended up shopping for Laddie and this year she had picked Eddie's name from the hat. I tried to instill some confidence in her that I could help her select a gift for him, but I had few ideas myself. On the drive over we had elected to increase the spending amount from $10 to $15. Still, there wasn't much at Target in that price range that Eddie would get excited about.
As she and I tossed out ideas, we rounded the corner just in
time to spot Tank shoving a small sized basketball inside his coat. With his eyes darting back and forth
suspiciously, he was a dead ringer for a shop lifter. Worried that he was about to be snagged by
store security, I called out to him.
'Hey, Tank, you can't do that!
There's no need to end up in juvie just to keep your secret Santa gift
on the down low!' An elderly couple
pushing a cart next to mine chuckled as they listened to me explain to him my
valid concerns regarding concealing an un-purchased gift from a lurking sibling. That was a close call.

