To be praised by my thirteen year old son on my choice of Christmas presents was one of the high points of the festive season for me.
He, of course, has no concept of the hours of thought, planning and co-ordination that had gone into each item in his present collection. Neither would he have any idea of the agonising that went into getting the balance between extravagance and frugality, between waste and real pleasure.
I’m with him, though. I did do a good job. Rather than lots of small gifts for each of the five children, we favoured joint presents for us all from our relatives (thanks to you all for complying). This has meant that we are two weeks into January and no-one has said that they are bored and there are no unwanted toys lying broken on bedroom floors. Singstar, Buzz and Guitar Hero have saved the day.
Or have they? Imagine my horror when I
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