TheBanyanTree: What I want for Christmas

[Monique Colver]

People ask me that and I say I don't know. This morning Ashley, the
ballerina, asked me. I told her I want a pony. I never had a pony before. I
wonder if she'll get me a pony.

Probably not.

I never get what I ask for.

One year I asked for world peace and see how well I did with that one.

One year my stepmother told me to make a list. This is when I was,
obviously, much younger, and we always had to make lists. Then she would
regard my list with disdain and point out why the things I'd asked for were
either 1) stupid, 2) foolish, 3) stupid.

But I still have the English Latin dictionary I insisted on, even though she
said I was just crazy. Mostly she just ignored my lists and bought me
hideous items I hadn't asked for.

Like the year a couple of decades ago (decades? how time flies) when they
were having financial problems but didn't want anyone to know, so she still
sent Christmas presents to us. Of course, since money was scarce, mostly
because dear old dad was trying to build dear old mom the house of her
dreams, which they had to sell shortly after it was finished, the presents
were not of the usual quality. I got a shirt that was so hideous it made me
cry. Not just because it was so hideous, but because of what it signified:
that she thought I would actually LIKE it. My then husband took the shirt
back to the large chain store where it came from, K-Mart, and brought back
almost seven dollars.

My stepmother was  not of the opinion that it was the thought that counts,
but that it was the appearance of a thought that counts, even though lurking
underneath the appearance of a thought was a squooshy and evil smelling
basement filled with an assortment of creepy crawlies.

But before I go off into a rant, let's get back to Christmas presents. We
can talk about my stepmother and her twisted psyche some other time.

My brother-in-law who's all of nine years of age has an endearing and
positive outlook on the subject of presents. It goes like this: "If I have
just this one present, I'll have everything I want!" The one present can be
one of several things, but it is usually the only thing in the stores that
he hasn't yet received. His Christmas presents need their own large
house-size room to exist, an add-on to the family home just so they're not
all piled on top of each other like a solid block of toy wreckage. So once
he plows through the mountain of presents which took four of us the entire
evening before to wrap, he finds the one item missing that wasn't there, and
then proclaims that after Christmas he must have that one item so his
collection will be complete.

His collection consists of every toy that's available that year.

So his parents go a bit overboard. When we were there for Christmas they
went a bit overboard with all of us. I've never received so many presents
all at once. I wasn't even married to their son yet. But it's the thought
that counts, and they had thought of everything and then some. Of course we
didn't need all that. But it made them so happy to do it.

Sometimes I must give in to the side of me that says, "No, I cannot possibly
accept all these presents!" and just let people be happy by giving them to
me. I'm so considerate that way.

Christmas isn't about presents. But still, people keep asking me, "what do
you want?"

World peace. Get me some of that.

Or a nice sweater.

Hey, whatever.





-- 
Monique Colver