"I'm a paper chaser..."

Well, Suttie’s first Christmas was as much a hit as a 9-month old’s Christmas can be. He got everything that he didn’t even know he wanted and was able to try a least three different kinds of lard-based gravy. The only problem spot was the vicious cycle of excitement and then misery that we had to go through every time he opened a present. Was he so overjoyed with his gifts that each opening sent him into a bipolar spiral, first being delighted by the acquisition and then disillusioned by the reality that life was unlikely to get any better than this? Good guess, but, no, that wasn’t it. What caused each present opening to end with my son in a torrent of tears was the fact that, more than all of his presents, he wanted and was determined to have the wrapping paper that we insisted on throwing away.

Did he care about the TV for his playroom that I carried to my car in the dark, alone with mace in hand and keys at the ready like a tiger claw? No. But the red and white Santa Claus paper was the coolest thing he’d seen since birth. Did he oooh and awww at the little red wagon that his dad and I froze off our tookuses for during the Black Friday midnight sale at Toys ‘R Us? No. But he was willing to fight to the death for the curly gold ribbon that was tied around it.

So, every time he opened a present, Suttie would grab a huge hunk of wrapping paper, just as we were prompting him to do. However, unlike our instructions, he wouldn’t let it go. Instead, he would tear off smaller and smaller pieces until he found one that looked especially tasty and then tried to quickly shove it into his mouth before anyone noticed. At which point, we would dive in and wrestle the paper from him, thus instigating his next tearful outburst. A few minutes later, it was time to go through the whole process again.

With this experience still fresh in my mind, I’m already on the lookout for an empty refrigerator box and a gently-used grocery sack for next year’s big gifts.