Today was Christmas day and Chris’s birthday (which he always annoyingly tries to ignore and says he is trading birthdays with someone else every year), and this year, his parents hosted the day at their house. Everyone brings food, games, and gifts over for the two little boys and Nana, except for Chris and me, since he insists every single person in the family needs a gift (and guess who has to wrap it all?) and he doesn’t follow rules. We have a gift giving and opening session when the boys open their endless toys and Nana opens all her God- and crystal-related “prezzies” (Aussie slang for “presents”). And inevitably every year this has happened, I am bored to death and want to escape.

It’s not that I don’t like exchanging gifts; I actually love the act when everyone is exchanging and opening gifts… and the people are adults. Adult presents are interesting when they are opened; sometimes, they have inside jokes, hidden meanings, or are symbolic. Children gifts are never like this; what child is that complex? Children presents are so repetitive, and generally almost always very gendered. Because the family so far has two boys, all the toys and gifts are around things like cars, trucks, and Thomas the Tank. And because they are so young, they think all wrapped gifts are for them, so they immediately run to the Christmas tree and try to unwrap all the gifts even though they aren’t all for them. This is not a stage of childhood when I have my own children that I will look forward to. I wonder if I can ever host a child’s birthday party and get away with not opening gifts in front of everyone. Chances are, I probably won’t because that’s what everyone’s expectations are.