Why Santa Needs Elves

Because some - and often, most - assembly is required. I guess some elves are toy-makers, who craft their wares in 14,000 pieces that must be put together with allen wrenches (yuck!) and 35,002 screws, and some elves are the putter-togetherers, who have to take those 14,000 bits and assemble them into something recognizable that a kid would want to play with.

How did I come to this realization? Well, I watched as a couple of earthly elves fashioned an incredible train table out of a gazillion pieces and a 250-page instruction booklet. OK. I exaggerate, but not by much. Witness the process and results:

Elves, disguised as parents, employ their best carpentry skills in the race to have the train table ready by Christmas morn.

Hm. Does this thing look like the picture?

I need 2 E tracks and a B. Or is it 2 B tracks and an E?

Pay-off for the 2-hour assembly process: one thrilled little feller!

Here's hoping your Christmas involved both toy-makers and assemblers. Merry Christmas to all!

World's Rarest Christmas Ornaments

At the risk of having hordes of people turn up outside our door hoping to delight in these wonderful objects, I must announce that we are in possession of the world's rarest hand-made Christmas ornaments. Yes, it's true. And when you consider the cost of the care and feeding of the baubles' creator, well, they're probably the most expensive ornaments in the world, too.

Each and every ornament is hand-made (and I do mean, hand-made) by the one and only . . . GrandBoy. He has spent hours of precious pre-school time, under the careful guidance of his patient teachers, crafting an assortment of keepsake decorations that Hallmark could only hope to achieve. It has taken the laser-like concentration that only a 20-month-old can summon up to turn out his one-of-a-kind angel, stocking, wreath, tree, and reindeer.

No need for diamonds, gold, silver, or delicate blown glass. No. What's needed is an assortment of paper plates, construction paper, glue, glitter, finger paint, and, of course, little fingers. I never imagined hand-prints could be so versatile - everything from reindeer antlers to holly leaves.

Sorry, folks. He only made one of each. Rare, indeed. Priceless. Don't even bother calling us, Sotheby's. These will never hit the auction block.

We might consider tours next year. But they're all ours this Christmas.

Spoiled

Nobody likes a spoiled brat. Children should not get every toy and whimsy they fancy. I think we're all agreed on that. So for a grandparent it takes great restraint always, but especially at this time of year, to keep from picking up everything little (and big) that might bring even a moment's delight to the little tykes.

The truth is that if GrandBoy didn't get any new toys for the next two years, he'd have enough stuff to play with all the live-long day. But it's taking all of our willpower - and by "our" I'm including his mama and daddy - to resist picking up a few more little Thomas the Tank Engine train cars at the store or ordering everything that hums, honks, dings, and whistles online. The urge is overpowering. "Oh, he would love this!" and "I'd love to see his face when he opens that!" Is there a 12-step program for this?

The good news is that I haven't given in to these urges to purchase everything in sight for GrandBoy. Much. I chose one item off the gift wish list, found the absolute most perfect winter hat for him at the Grand Central Holiday Fair, and bought him a couple of books. Well, more than a couple of books; the stack seems to grow daily. (But books aren't toys, are they? Can you spoil a child with too many books? Help me out here, grandparents.)

Oh, yeah. And a friend was going to Hess to pick up a truck for her grandchildren. Did I want one for Liam? Of course, I did. I mean, the annual Hess truck is iconic, right? He needs one of those. Really. It lights up and makes noise and everything. Just made for my GrandBoy. So add that to the list.

I'm beginning to think that finding delightful things for our grandchildren has more to do with spoiling us than them. Is it completely selfish to want to see that first little flicker of surprise, then the smiles, and the play that follows when a gift is well-received? It's not the thing itself, it's the reaction and the way it's treated and used, that we wait for. Selfishly. OK. Maybe it is a little selfish. Maybe we're the spoiled brats, not the kids.

In the spirit of the season - and with every ounce of self-control that I can muster (thank goodness for limited discretionary spending) - I'm trying my best not to become a spoiled GrandMaryBrat. But that goal may be hard to achieve, since I do not need a reaction to a gift to spoil me. Every smile, string of jibber-jabber, plane-spotting, YoGabbaGabba dance, sleepy bed-head hug from GrandBoy spoils me beyond imagination. Perhaps I should just sit back and enjoy being spoiled for a while.

And maybe I'll save the Hess truck for GrandBoy's birthday.