I’m disgusted at myself. I’ve wrapped up the gifts that I’ve been buying since July, for Christmas, stood back and looked at the heap of presents and felt quite sick. There was so much stuff. Ok, I don’t think I’ve spent that much, it’s all little bits, but it created a metallic Father Christmas mountain. I don’t want her to become a spoiled brat though, I may have wrapped up a toy shop catalogue as it’s the book that my 3 year old daughter enjoys the most (and it gets her through a long car journey). But the end result is something I’m not very proud of, so I’ve put half of it back in the cupboard for her birthday. 
Last year, I thought, “right, she’s 2, she’s really going to understand the magic of it all this year!” And went to town on bits for under the tree. She didn’t. It took her ten days to open everything, I’d gone back to work before that last piece of wrapping paper was ripped off the last present. You see, faced with 3 toys or games to play with, my girl looks confused, can’t cope with the decision, gets totally overwhelmed and ends up playing with a tiny bit of blue tack which was holding a greetings card on the fireplace. Next year it’ll be 3 packets of that on my letter to Santa. 

0 replies

Leave a Reply

Want to join the discussion?
Feel free to contribute!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.