Article content“Well, you did say this year you might just e-transfer money to the kids. They both have mortgages and the older grandkids are teenagers. They’d rather have money. And Beautiful Daughter can pick up things for the younger girls so they get what they want.”Article contentThe stare. Then.Article content“Next thing, you’ll want to take our 20-year-old cat to the vet and have her put down because she’s starting to leave the occasional mess in your office.”Article contentWell.Article contentThe stare. Then.Article content“I’m only putting together one small box this year. It’s just starting to cost too much to ship it all the way up there,” BW said.Article contentNow, I know using the eyeroll is not necessarily the best tactic. It only really works for teenage girls. And increasingly for Youngest Granddaughter, who apparently learned it from her biggest sister, then perfected it to go with her adorable dimples. Deadly combination.Article contentArticle contentI opted for the second option. The blank-faced look of disbelief.Article content“What?” demanded BW.Article content“Ummm.”Article contentArticle contentWe’ll need a bigger boxArticle contentChristmas traditions have a life all their own. Little things become necessary things in short order. Each of the kids HAD to use the same sock each year, or Santa Claus might not find them. Although the big orange in the toe was something they were happy to ignore.Article contentThe Christmas village, with its houses and shops and skating rink, had to be set up on the table in the living room, complete with fluffy cotton stuff as snow. We tried skipping it one year and BD promptly dragged the heavy box out of the basement and huffily set up the entire thing herself.Article content“When you die, I want the village,” she declared. She does have a lot of me in her.Article contentSo The Box has become a tradition that has one reality. It is never small. BW packs it. Then repacks it.Article contentArticle content“You’re going to need a bigger box,” I finally say, fulfilling my role in this annual holiday tradition.Article contentThen she re-repacks it. And re-re-repacks it. Then she gets a bigger box. The post office sends her a reminder in early December each year, it’s so eager for her business.Article contentThis year?Article content“I got a bigger box,” BW declared in late November.Article contentI looked up from my work – spread out on the other end of the kitchen table.Article content“Um hum.”Article content“What?” she demanded. I looked back down at my work.Article contentHours passed. Then.Article content“Hah!” she declared, gesturing grandly with her arms spread wide. “Look how neatly it all fits.”Article contentShe was right. There were two boxes.Article contentArticle contentArticle contentArticle contentRick MacLean is an instructor in the journalism program at UPEI. He lives in New Brunswick.Article content
RICK MacLEAN: The Box has become our Christmas tradition
