Packages and Reality

It's been a week.

Jack is 7. One of Jack's seven girlfriends (one for every year of his life, apparently) moved out of the area last week. When Jack announced this to us he said, "Paisley's gone. I'm just a wreck!"

The doorbell rang a bit ago. Everyone went running as though Santa himself had rung. I understand. There's not much excitement around here. So when the doorbell rings, the very idea of just who it could be is enough to get any of the kids up from their Wii marathon for a moment or two.

Not Santa. Just UPS. By the way, I love how the UPS guys wear red Santa hats this time of year. Hey - I just realized, it's sort of like it was Santa at our door.

Anyhoo, the UPS Santa left 2 boxes.

When I brought them in, the kids asked, in unison, "What is that? Who is that for?"

"They're Christmas presents," I answered flatly.

"For who?" Jack asked.

"Whom," I corrected.

"Huh?" he replied.

"Nothing. They're for nice people."

"Nice people?" Jack asked.

"Yeah. You know, people who are nice to me. Those are the people who'll get the presents."

"Well shoot," responds Jack. "Guys, don't get excited," he screams to his siblings. "The presents are for Michael and Heather."