Don't know if this will be funny to anyone else, but I'm still laughing now remembering the mess of the first Christmas I can really remember.
I loved reading from a very early age, and my family loved that and were happy to spread it around.
So, Christmas when I'm four years old. Start opening my presents, and I start finding books. I love it at first. I got books from my parents, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles. Everyone knew I loved books!
The present opening continues, and my cousins are getting toy after toy. I'm getting...more books. I'm starting to get a little down about this point, and I learned later the family started getting worried and comparing notes and realizing that not a single person got me a toy. Yeah, I loved books...but I was a four year old. I liked to play too.
Eventually my aunts and uncles start making my cousins give me some of their toys to play with and said Santa made a mistake, which just pissed off everyone around my age, and none of us believed it.
So, I went outside in the front yard to play and pout away from all the toys and books. After a little bit, the next door neighbor walks up saying "Merry Christmas" and has a bunch of presents for us kids. Hands me one, I tear it open...so excited to finally get a toy...and it's another book.
My little brain broke about then, and I just remember sitting straight down in a puddle and crying. Neighbor was distraught about what he'd done wrong and my mom had to explain it to him.
That last thing is the part that mostly cracks me and everyone else up. That poor neighbor didn't know he was my last hope for a toy of my own that day, and my little preschool misery ended up taking him out as well. (We all have kind of sick sense of humor.)
In the end, I learned early on that too much of a good thing is bad, and my family learned to compare notes a bit better on what they were getting each other for Christmas.
Stake ID: AdhamZzZ
