Apparently we are all very lazy in this household when it comes to Christmas.
This year I stuffed stockings for the first time, since after all I only completed the stockings last January. And I suppose that, in my own defense, I wasn’t entirely lazy about it. I did make a list well ahead of time, and gather together chocolates and candies and small trucks and a small, toy pair of binoculars. (Nathan really likes binoculars.) I even sewed little organza bags for the chocolates, which I knew the entire time was complete overkill, since the boys would not care about the bags except inasmuch as they needed to get the chocolates out, right now.
The actual laziness came into play on Christmas Eve. It was a late night, and the kids didn’t want to go to sleep. This was not because of anticipation of Christmas morning; at their current ages I feel like I have to talk about Christmas a lot with them in an attempt to drum up interest. No, it was just one of those nights (rare now, fortunately) where being confined to a bed was simply torture for both boys. And after they were finally quiet, I lay there in my own warm, cozy bed and wondered: was it really worth it? I mean, would they care whether the stockings were already filled when they woke up, or became mysteriously filled sometime later in the morning? Since we don’t use the Santa Claus story, would it really matter?
Somewhere in the midst of debating this, it became morning.
And I’ve decided that it was probably a good thing to wait. It gave us the chance to get through breakfast before the kids started gorging themselves on chocolate. Laziness is not all bad.
The laziness is not all mine, either. I did finally bring the stuffed stockings out and set them down on the floor of the sun room. Both kids delved into their stocking… and then, as soon as they’d found the first truck and bag of chocolate, stopped. Mild prodding on my part to explore the rest of the stocking failed to elicit interest. After some consideration, I decided that I didn’t really care, and anyway it would spread out the novelty. After all, the whole point of staying home for a nice quiet Christmas is that we’re not on a schedule.
