OmaHeck: Of Giving and Gifts and Orange Juice

I took a bunch of pictures, but I'll post them later. Right now I want to share some thoughts.

After the Christmas Eve celebration at Cyndie's parents' home, Dane was so very excited. I think it may have been the most excited he's been for Christmas. Ever.

Pulling in to the garage, he told us, "I am so excited! I don't think I can wait any longer... my stomach has that crazy feeling and I think it might just burst!"

Fortunately, there was no projectile excitement at any point in the last 24 hours.

As we got the boys in bed, it was evident we were prepping for an early morning today. We told the boys that they couldn't get up before 6 am. Believing that to be reasonable, both agreed. Tate had unplugged his clock a few days ago to use the outlet for a charger of some kind... so I asked him if he wanted me to reset his clock, or just wait for Dane to come wake him up. He thought a brotherly wake up call was sufficient.

Dane told us that he knew he needed to stay in bed until 6:00 (a substantial challenge since he's been known to come in to our room, or pay his brother a visit at any and all times of darkness) and then go nudge Tate gently.

As some point I heard him hop out of bed and open his door. I called to him, and reminded him that he needed to stay in bed until 6:00. He replied, "It is 6:00. I watched the clock and it said five-five-eight, then five-five-nine, and now six-zero-zero!" Who knows how long he'd been awake, but now it is five-three-six and he's still going strong.

Both boys were sweet and thoughtful as we opened presents. They were humble and grateful and offered sincere thanks for the gifts they received.

About 10:30 Cyndie's parent's arrived with more presents. Me-Mah wanted a bigger box than the Wii game game in, so she packaged it in a shoe box. As Tate unwrapped it, he saw the shoe logo and a look of disbelief enveloped his face. With disdain dripping from every vowel and consonant, he looked a Me-Mah and said matter of factly, "I didn't want shoes!" It was such a change from where he'd been just an hour before, it caught us off guard. Fortunately, we got him to keep peeling, and excitement returned as he saw that the shoebox housed Scooby Doo First Frights. (Straight from his wish list) Whew!

It was rewarding for me (as a Dad trying to teach these boys) to see them be grateful and thoughtful as they opened gifts.

Shortly thereafter, Cyndie's sister Lori arrived with husband Rod and we prepped brunch.

Apparently, there was some discussion about the brunch ingredients prior to my involvement. Lori and Rod were in charge of juice (in some corners of the universe, newlyweds are given very limited, simple, and straightforward assignments as they are often otherwise focused). As I understand it, the only guidance they were given initially was "orange juice", and "for everyone." Well, in these course of subsequent conversation (again, I was not involved), it came up that I am somewhat of a diva/snob/persnikety Pete/virtuoso when it comes to OJ.

In my defense, I was raised in a house that valued prime OJ. Both my parents cut their teeth in California, and we didn't drink bad OJ. Often, there were fresh oranges (really good ones) hand squeezed into the best concentrate on the market. It was sweet. It was pulpy. It made all breakfast food that much better.

Further, I have travelled and been to enough "free breakfasts" in hotels to tell you definitively that there are drastic differences between really good orange juice and what often comes out of a dispencer labeled "Orange Juice" (and as a result, I am developing a really good pallet for the subtleties of apple juice).

So Rod had grabbed some OJ at Costco, and when he got back to the cart, Lori told him that wouldn't do. It had no pulp, and was the bargain brand. Lori filled him in.

As I heard this story today while making eggs, I was a little embarrased. I don't want to be a diva. When others are required to adjust their plans for me, I often feel a little uncomfortable. I had barely begun to share these feelings when all involved said it was their pleasure to make my day by ensuring the best OJ possible (Odwalla, lots of pulp). It was really humbling to see how my family was looking to take care of me. Makes me want to find ways to serve them. Always.

The day is drawing to an end... my guess is the boys don't have an hour left in them. I want to reinforce some of the gratitude they've expressed today. Think we'll bust out the Thanksgiving crossword we didn't get to last month.

OmaHeck out!