All I Want For Christmas Is...

Hand sanitizer. And maybe some beef jerky.

This from my oldest child.

"Um, okay. Is there anything else you can think of?" I asked her.

"Well...(thinking)....(big sigh)..See, the thing is, I have so much stuff already and I can't keep my room clean," she explained.

My thoughts exactly!!

I handed her a bag and suggested she go through her room and find some things she was ready to get rid of. She agreed and disappeared for about 30 minutes to sort through toys. I was so pleased that she was finally mature enough to handle the thought of getting rid of things she doesn't play with anymore. I would no longer have to wait until she was asleep or gone to do it for her.

A half an hour later she returned with the bag of items she was ready to part with. It contained: three crayons, a green necklace, one doll shoe, and a pretend piece of bologna.

I noticed also that everything had a price tag. Grace explained: "I was thinking that instead of just giving my stuff away, we could have a garage sale and make some money, ya know."

So, here we are, with a house full of toys, and a little girl who cannot think of one thing she is lacking, and who would probably be content to unwrap hand sanitizer for Christmas. But I have to think of something to buy her (besides hand sanitizer), and caught in the madness of Christmas shopping mode, I ignore the blessing of her spirit of contentment and keep prodding, "There must be something you want..."

If only I had let her watch more TV, then she would have seen enough commercials to know what she is supposed to want . But alas, she is hopelessly in the dark. Recently someone asked her if she wanted a Hannah Montana poster. "Who's Anna Motana?" Grace responded to their incredulous looks and I don't think I'm imagining their scathing, "What a bad mother" looks.

But after I browsed suggested gifts for seven-year-old girls, hand sanitizer started looking better all the time. I think I'll throw in some beef jerky and let her be a little girl a little longer.

Fortunately, Grace is pretty good at using the recycle bin to make whatever she or anyone else might want. Here is Caleb working on a laptop she made him.



The other night Phil walked in her room, to find her standing in front of her "computer" complete with mouse and printer. She requested a few more minutes of privacy so she could finish Skyping with her imaginary friends.

Finally she opened the door. "Sorry, it took so long," she said sheepishly. "The President wanted to talk to me too."