Tis' the season, folks! Around here, the sights and smells of Christmas are everywhere! From amazing outdoor light displays (ours is good but not the best on the street) to scrumptious sweets being traded between human friends, my world is in full Christmas mode. That goes for the house I share with my human family, too - colored lights, stockings by the fireplace, lots of A Christmas Carol watching, and a permanently pervading sugar cookie scent all say the big guy in the red suit is coming!!
I'm still not sure why we go to the trouble of putting up a fake tree inside the house, but all decked out in its Christmas splendor, it's a real nice anchor for the festive decor. This week, boxes wrapped in fancy holiday paper appeared under it. Big Brother and I checked them out - to him from Mom and Dad, to Mom from Dad, to Mom from Big Brother, to Dad from Mom . . . and so on. One said to Dad from Gus, but I didn't remember wrapping it. Search as we might, we couldn't find one that said "to Gus" from anybody.
"Hmmm," Big Brother said pensively. "Did you make a list?"
"A list?"
"Yeah, a Christmas list - like what gifts you think would be fun to get."
"Is that what you did?" I asked, already knowing the answer and fearing his confirmation.
"Of course!"
Of course. Well, thanks a lot for letting me know, I thought. Some brother code we have. Hrmph! Just a few days out from Christmas and I haven't even made my list! No wonder I don't have any presents under the tree!
Big Brother could sense something was wrong, and I love him for wanting to help. He offered to show me his list, and I agreed, so we dug it out from under the cell phone charging basket on the kitchen counter.
"Ronaldo Al Nassr jersey," I read from the list. "What the heck is that?"
"A uniform shirt for my favorite soccer player."
I scanned down the list - jersey, jersey, jersey. "All you want are a bunch of shirts?" I asked incredulously.
He tried to explain how they weren't just shirts, but I wasn't listening. I moved down the list. "What is FIFA 24?"
"A soccer video game." Ok, I thought. That makes a lot more sense - something fun!
"You think those boxes under the tree are shirts or the game?" I asked.
"None of them," he said, not really sounding very sad either. "Mom said my list was pretty pricey this year and not to get my hopes up."
"So, why make the list, if they don't give you what's on it?" I was totally confounded. It made no sense.
"I might get one or two things," he explained, "but whatever is under the tree will be good either way. Like fun stuff Mom and Dad think I'll like, and they usually do a pretty good job." He picked up a long, skinny box and said, "Like this. I think it's a Nerf gun I showed Mom in Walmart a few weeks ago. I hope so anyway." He set it down and picked up another. "I can't wait for Mom to open this one!" He moved to an oddly shaped box that was poorly wrapped. "And this one Mom helped me box up so Dad won't guess what it is, and I wrapped it myself." He seemed proud, so I kept my wrapping review to myself.
"Why wasn't the Nerf gun on the list?" I pressed, trying hard to understand the code so I could make To Gus boxes appear under the tree.
Big Brother was tiring of our conversation. "The list is like a wish list of stuff you wouldn't normally get. It's not really a request list. It's stuff you'd like a lot but you're cool without it. Even just getting one would be amazing," he said, putting the box back and sliding his list back under the basket.
Huh. Stuff I'd like a lot but am also cool without. I got some notebook paper from the office, like Big Brother's list was written on, but since I don't have thumbs, it's not like I could write on it. Big Brother, still feeling bad maybe for not telling me about the list in the first place, offered to do the writing. He wrote Gus's Christmas List at the top, put 1. on the first line, and looked at me to fill in the rest. "Pet sibling," I said.
Big Brother grinned. "Good one, Gus! I don't think that's gonna happen, though."
"I'll take comments on my list when and if you open a Ronaldo jersey."
"Fair enough. What about number two?"
"New beanbag bed."
"You don't like your Big Joe anymore?"
"It'd be nice to have one upstairs," I replied.
Big Brother nodded and transcribed my wish onto the paper while mumbling, "A little too practical but ok," clearly disregarding my request for no commentary. When he looked at me for number 3, I had nothing. "Nothing at all?" he asked.
"I don't know what to ask for," I said. "I love those squeaky tennis balls I got for my birthday last year, but those are kind of like your Nerf gun - a good gift but not special enough for the list."
Big Brother pulled out his cell phone and Googled "Top dog gifts." This provided us with a wealth of information! We found a waffle iron-looking thing for making homemade dog treats (what the heck am I supposed to do with that?), a stuffed puppy dog with a heartbeat ( so I can feel like I'm snuggled up to my dog mom or pup siblings), an agility training kit (that could be fun), a dog grooming towel (is that really for me?), and a "hide a squirrel" plush pet puzzle (yes! That's what I'm talking about!) (womansday.com)
We added the squirrel puzzle and the agility training kit to my list, with Big Brother continuing to say stuff like, "Mom knows you'll just shred and eat a plush toy." He told me to leave the list on the kitchen counter so Mom could find it, we traded a fist bump, and I retreated to my Big Joe to dream about me opening the squirrel puzzle (I believe Mom knows second chances after mistakes are fair . . . maybe even 54th chances).
As I drifted off, I thought about Big Brother's acceptance of the unfulfilled wish list. The pricey gifts would be fun to have, but he was just as good with the potential Walmart gifts, too. And he was just as excited about Mom opening his gift to her as he was about finding out if there was actually a Nerf gun in the box. His pride in wrapping his own gifts also seemed to be part of his Christmas joy. What was I missing? Maybe it's because he's almost 12 and I'm only going to be 3 next month. I knew I needed Mom's help to type this story out, and it was at this point in doing so that she helped explain it, like she always does.
She said what Big Brother knows that I don't is that, for a lot of people all over the world, Christmas is a religious holiday about the birth of a guy called Jesus Christ - hence Christ-mas. She said maybe I should pay more attention to the little story excerpts Big Brother reads every night after dinner. She also said a lot of other people celebrate something called Hanukkah, which is a whole other story our Jewish friends could tell me, while other folks celebrate Kwanzaa and some others find cause to celebrate the Winter Solstice. I had no idea I was missing out on so much stuff! She said basically the presents are secondary to all that and to making time for family, doing good for others, helping folks who don't have as much as you do, and so on, no matter which thing it is you celebrate.
I said I don't think dogs do religion of any kind, but that some of it did sound like nice stuff to do. I pointed out that adopting a pet sibling was doing something nice for some pet who didn't have as much as me, but the "bless your heart" look on her face while she laughed and said, "That's the spirit," told me Big Brother was right about the number one item on my list. I guess by the time I'm almost 12, I'll have genuine excitement over unwrapping tennis balls again, although I have to admit just thinking about it now is kind of fun. And I don't know what's in that package from me to Dad, but I'm kind of excited to see if he likes it. I might be maturing a little as I finish this up!
I know you're wondering if I'll get anything for Christmas (me, too), but you'll have to wait just like me. In the meantime, I hope wherever you are and whatever holiday you're celebrating, it's full of what makes you happy - even if that ends up being nothing on your list!
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