I Spy with My Little Eye

Ah, kids.  You gotta spank 'em.

I mean, love 'em.  That's what I meant to say.  Love 'em and paddle 'em and hug 'em.

We have a Christmas peeker in our family.  And his name is Brittan.  A couple of weeks ago, I had a gift in my bedroom, covered carefully with a beach towel, waiting to be hidden away someplace safe. Because my home is the size of a cracker jack box and finding perfect gift hiding places requires hours of organizing, sorting, and dejunking, the towel draped present remained in my room for several days.

And Brittan peeked.

Christmas '08

The little stealthy sneaker. 

But here's where the real frustration lies - the present wasn't even for him.  He knew what was under my lame Christmas camouflage was meant for his older brother.  I caught wind that Brittan may have seen something he wasn't supposed to, so that night as I was tucking them into bed, I talked to them about Christmas looky-looks and how it just ruins any surprises and the excitement of Christmas morning.  I emphasised that even if you know where things are hidden, you need to resist the urge to peek.  And you need to keep your mouth shut with any information you might have.

Get real, Kristen.

As a kid, my mom would make a list of what we were getting for Christmas. Down to the very last candy cane.  The problem was, she would leave it on the kitchen counter in plain sight with a spotlight blazing on its classified information.  I swear I remember bold letters across the top of the list beckoning to "READ ME."  I obliged.  I don't know why.  I couldn't control my eyes (nor my hands picking up the list to bring it close to my face).  The entire time I knew I shouldn't be doing what I was doing and I would keep saying to myself (as the paper got closer and closer to my wild eyes), "Stop!  Put the list down and walk away!  Walk away and have the strength to never be tempted by a literary lure like this again!"  But I couldn't tame my curiosity.  I would read the whole list in less than a nanosecond, know what the entire family was getting for Christmas, then quickly replace it to its rightful place.

That list should have been contained in an alarmed-temperature-controlled-bullet-proof-glass case (spotlight still shining).  It was a truly invaluable document and should have been given the respect it deserved.

Or at least handled with white gloves.

{Might I add that this may be the first time my mom is gaining this knowledge.  I'm sorry mom. I was a restraintless child lacking in Noel morals.}

So, perhaps I deserve having a child with this same foible.  I'm just not sure how to handle my current situation.  See, Santa is still a very powerful and popular guy around here.  A hidden camera 2 years ago gave my kids solid proof that he exists and is more jolly than ever.  We're a house of believers. If my boys ever start to doubt I tell them to simply not write a letter to St. Nick that year and see what happens. 

They've never risked it.

Back to the challenge on hand, Brittan sees a gift with uncanny resemblance to something Taiden has on his Santa list. He waits a whopping 12 seconds until after I leave the room to tell Taiden exactly what he saw. Keep in mind that this is 12 seconds after I finished my articulate, expressive, and persuasive Don't Spoil Christmas speech.

What is a mother to do?

A)  take back the gift and think of something else

B)  give it anyway and have a major spoiler alert in regards to the guy in the red suit

C)  shift some things around and have mom and dad get the credit under the Christmas tree

D) tell Brittan that the gift was actually for him and that it is being returned to the store...that way Taiden can keep it on his Santa list and hopefully Santa will still be able to deliver

E)  cancel Christmas

I chose D and coupled it with a TV-less day for Brittan.

* Post note:  Before you think I'm a horrible mom, let me assure you that I don't spank my kids. TV-less days are much more painful. :D

{Psst!  Be sure to answer the "Did you peek as a kid?" question over on the right.}