The Gifts That Keep Giving

It is 21 days past Christmas. The tree is gone. The paper is put away. Tape has gone back to serving me only to patch up the books the boys fight over. The porch is dark again. The decorations are down, if not yet packed away.

Yet Sammy's stocking still hangs, full.

He sort of knows it's there. He'll walk by it and ask slyly, "Daddy, what' that?". Or drop A slippery, "Mommy, I have a stocking." He has made no attempt to get it down (and he has a stool and knows what to do with it). He hasn't asked for it.

What the hell?!?!

We took it down tonight and presented it to him, no holds barred, at the kitchen table. He was far more committed to getting the train away from his brother than getting to the bottom of the stocking. We were pushing the stocking though and forcing him to empty it. His interest in his stocking was as follows:

• deck of Crazy Eights cards he thought they were more Go Fish cards
• tiny Mickey Mouse playing cards no response
• kazoo just holding up the harmonica
• harmonica king of Who Gives a Crap Hill
• balsam wood glider the Bertie Bus equivalent, in other words we could have started and finished with this alone

Scott and I are now eating his Hershey's Kisses and trying to find the right place to hide the rest of the goods to be doled out as You're Extra Special Today goodies. You know what they say; YOU SNOOZE, YOU LOSE!