I really don’t know why I’m admitting this but here goes…I re-gift to my own child.
Yes. Yes! I realize how unforgivable this is. After all, I’m taking advantage of a 5-year-old who doesn’t have the capacity to remember that she’s opened the same gift on multiple occasions.
But if you have so much you can’t keep track of it then…you have too much! Right?
I feel guilty. No, I really do! But then Maya will say something ridiculous about how she has nothing to play with and that’s when I launch into my, “Do you know how lucky you are? Do you know there are kids in India who would kill for that one-armed Barbie you just threw on the floor?” speech.
And as I wrap up my lengthy speech yet again I’ve convinced myself that Maya does not need One.More.Thing. And that’s when I shamelessly re-wrap the fill in the blank I gave her for her birthday and quietly placed it under the tree.
I hope that when Maya grows up and starts reading about my insane parenting tactics she doesn’t hold it against me too much. But who knows? By then I’ll probably be so out of it that I won’t realize she’s stuck me in a nursing home and has been giving me the same ugly Sears faux-cashmere sweater for years.
Karma is a b@#$h.