The joy of receiving (pt. 2)
Of course, she's also opening a few presents of her own. But, since her fingers aren’t as dextrous as an adult's, my sister asks her brother, Uncle Unwrapper, to help out.
My sister pulls out the camera to record this (until the tape is mysteriously re-recorded with footage of the dog taking a funny-looking shit in the yard) since my niece doesn’t understand what’s going on.
She’d rather pull out the tissue paper from bags, throw them in the air, pull out more tissue paper, wave it like a flag and dig inside the bag for more tissue paper. When she doesn’t find any, she dives, head first, into the bag, flips herself around and walks around in circles with a bag on her head.
While my niece continually bumps into the furniture, I continue to unwrap – gently – her gifts. They’re all variations on the same theme: fluffy, furry, soft and small.
All of this cuteness is a little too much for someone who is as bitter as I am. If it wasn’t for the fact that I would have to clean up after myself, I think I would vomit.
Eh, maybe later.
So, after 45 minutes of opening up my niece’s gifts (with all the ribbons and bows in a bag, and wrapping paper folded in a pile), it’s time to open mine.
It doesn’t take long.
I have three gifts. It takes six seconds to open them. Except for two cards and a couple of well wishes, I receive a pair of underwear.
The irony is beyond biblical.
The man who owns every possible article of clothing, gets the one piece he has little use for.
No matter what your age, whatever you receive is a part of the joy of receiving.