The other day I said to Morrison, this year I want one hundred presents under the tree. I want the presents to cascade from the tree into other rooms like we’ve suffered a terrible leak but the leak is Presents. Basically, after the year we’ve had (big joy, big frustrations) I want Christmas morning to last until Spring 2021. I want Joe’s first Christmas morning to break laws of time and to last forever. But I clarified, because I’m not a monster: I don’t need like, 100 actual presents. The presents can be air. He can whisper into a box and wrap it. It could be a thing of kitchen foil that I already have, but Wrapped. Which gives me a very good idea, that someone has probably already had: what if Christmas morning, we wrapped up some of the things we already have? And then in opening them, we remember we have them, and instead of the focus on Newness, Christmas morning becomes: Oh, how I am already blessed with Things, and Things, and Things. We already have it all. Maybe I’ll start this as a tradition for Joe, so that when he has his own kids, he can tell them well, your Grandma would go through my stuff and find the old weird stuff I didn’t want and she would wrap it and put it under the tree, and I would open it and say, Mom, why did you wrap my socks? and she would say, YOU SEE? YOU SEE?! And I would say …..No, Mom, not really?