Re-gifted!

The Boy's Christmas party was today.

He had to bring a $10 boy gift.

I had to bring a 12-pack of Sprite and cookies.

He angsted over his shopping selection -- he realizes that he is a geek, and that anything he thinks is cool probably isn't by his friends' standards.

For the record, he also understands that being a geek is a good thing, and that
he gets to experience things most of his friends probably never will, unless
required in order to pass the TAKS exam.

He finally settled on Spy Night Vision binoculars, which turned out to be a good choice and resulted in a crowd of little boys clustered around the one who received the gift trying to trade Hot Wheels for it . . .

Speaking of Hot Wheels, The Boy received a 5-pack. An Easter 5-pack, decorated with bunnies and racing eggs.

He opened it and froze.

The boy who brought it was bouncing up and down, waiting for his reaction.

The Boy quietly set it aside with the paper, thanked his friend, and talked about the collectibility of Hot Wheels with the importance of completing each series, etc., and until his friend's eyes glazed over and he wandered off.

The Boy immediately turned to me. I tensed up, and prepared to explain why he couldn't demand his gift back.

"Do you think Lex-Mart would exchange this for me?" he asked. "I'm a little too old for Hot Wheels. Maybe they would let me get something else."

I assured him we would go shopping and try.

Later, in the car, he wanted to know what was up with the Easter theme, and I had to explain re-gifting. He was deeply offended, until I explained that this was actually better, because he could pick out something he really wanted.

Something I wouldn't buy for him . . . like a Heroscape expansion pack.

He knows I have flatly refused to buy Heroscape for him.

I can't.

Santa is bringing it . . .

He has teamed them up with his MechWarrior figures, and is thoroughly and happily enjoying himself.

See?

Major geek.

It's in the DNA . . .

If anyone's interested, I made buttermilk shortbread, M&M chip, and peanut-butter-and-jelly-thunbprint cookies in strawberry and grape.

At his kindergarten Christmas party, all the other mothers made cookies and I bought cookies.

At his first grade party, all the other mothers made cookies and I bought cookies.

This time, I made cookies, and all the other mothers . . . bought cookies.

I can't win.

Obviously he gets it from me.