Written by Emily
When Chloe saw her little tree getting dressed in its holiday finest, a squeal leapt from her mouth, a dance wiggled out of her and she fell in love with Christmas.
Ok, it was a bit more guttural than a squeal.
But it was definitely joy. And sometimes joy sounds more guttural.
Almost everyday after the decorating night, a small bag would show up nestled beneath the tree’s branches. Chloe went straight to work preparing Christmas presents for the entire family.
My girl has always had a soft spot for squirreling away “valuables” and a real love of bags or boxes or sacks. Combine the two and you’ve got the recipe for a jewelry box full of earrings without their mates, televisions without their remotes and make-up without its brushes. Give the girl a wooden box of any kind, and she will fill it to the brim and sing a song about her treasures.
Chloe saw Christmas as a wonderful holiday made just for her, a special girl with a penchant for tucking secret things away.
Walking into the house after Christmas shopping, my girl would run to my feet, “I hope you didn’t buy a new necklace at the ‘stoy’ today!” And then she’d run off giggling. She loves hints.
Chloe’s eyes lit up at the sight of Christmas wrapping. In an instant, I was without tape or scissors or raffia or tags. When she returned, she’d announce, “Sylvie told me she can’t wait to open her present.” Sylvie is one.
I’d overhear her taunting her big brother, Noah, “You really want to open your present, don’t you? Well, you have to wait foy Christmas moyning!”
Christmas was absolutely delicious to her. In her mind, the little rotter, she had complete control over her family’s emotions, and she got to feed her desire to conceal things.
When the time came to share her “presents,” she was absolutely beside herself with excitement.
For Daddy and Noah:
“Wrapped” in her trick-or-treat bag, an Xbox remote my husband had since before Chlo was born.
A spongy pterodactyl that has seen its fair share of love. Age: 2 years.
Scattered inside a very-old Victoria Secret bag, the beginnings of “ a necklace you can make all by yourself.”
And this one, my personal favorite:
She prepared me for this one. “Mommy, this is something you lost. I found it! I don’t know why the couch was hiding it.” Ensconced in a still-damp baby wipe (I can only hope it was a clean one), topped with a teased hair extension and secured with a hair tie, was my medical insurance card. Yes. It was lost. And I, too, have no idea why the couch was hiding it.
And finally, just because:
A giftbag overflowing with batting and raffia.
Everyone played the part–even Sylvie because what does she know? If it’s wrapped, it’s exciting. The rest of us, we mirrored Chloe’s enthusiasm because how could we not, really?
She was absolutely dizzy with Christmas spirit.
Since December 25, Chloe has re-gifted our gifts several times. And every time, it’s the same. She dances and giggles and smiles and even asks, “Is this the best day of your life?”
Before I can answer, she says, “Because it’s the best day of my life.”
And then I want to squeeze her so tight that she melts right into me.
And sometimes I cry. Like right now.