Christmas Adventures Part 1

Over the weekend we ventured out to get our family Christmas tree. Little man was overly excited to hear the news, of course.

"We get Christmas tree?" Little man asked me.

"Yeah, we're going right now, let's go!" I said.

"YAY! We get Christmas tree for Santa!" Little man exclaimed.

When we found our tree and loaded it up, little man was even more excited than before. The entire ride home he told us all about how the Christmas tree was for Santa and how he wanted Santa to bring him a dinosaur for Christmas.

Later that night as I began bringing the barrage of Christmas decorations up from the depths of our basement, little man's excitement was almost too much for him to bare.

Of course, like any hard-headed, stubborn and testing toddler, little man insisted that he be the only one to put ornaments on the tree.

Too bad he didn't understand that you can't put all of the ornaments on the same branch, which was also approximately 3 feet from the bottom of the tree (aka perfect little man height).

He also didn't understand why mean old mommy wouldn't let him swing around and bang the German glass ornaments she received as a wedding present many years ago.

I know, I'm a fun hater.

But, nonetheless, little man took pride in placing every ornament (at least every non-glass ornament) on the tree. With daddy's sneaky sense and quick maneuvering from here to there, we even managed to rearrange some ornaments so that all of our ornaments weren't on the bottom third of the tree.

Then came the presents.

The next morning it didn't take little man long to zero in on the presents that had appeared underneath the tree.

The presents, all wrapped in red and green Tonka truck Christmas paper, were all little man could even think about.

And I found myself uttering what all mothers find themselves constantly repeating this time of year.

Don't Touch!

However, little man always finds a way. If he's sitting near the tree, just one little finger will reach over and touch the shiny red bow.

If I'm watering the tree, he will come to "help." He'll gladly pull all of the presents away from underneath the tree for me.

And of course shake them, flip them over and inspect them as he does it.

I like to think he really is trying to help ... but I'm on to him.

And somehow, just somehow, I will from time to time walk into the living room and find a little wrapped box in the middle of the floor ... little man sitting innocently on the couch, as if he had no idea how it got there.

"What's in in mommy?" Little man will ask as I slide the box back under the tree.

"You need to wait until Christmas to find out," I say.

"Oh, okay," little man answers. "I wait till Christmas."

{approximately 1 minute later}

"Mommy? What's in it?"