There are times when I do actually envy my niece and nephew.
Paul : Man, I wish I had an uncle who would buy me everything when I was a kid.
Mother : You weren't exactly impoverished.
Paul : Yeah but it's different to have an uncle just buy whatever I pick out at the store.
Since my niece and nephew do live a thousand miles away - especially with me across the Big Puddle, I do try to spoil them whenever and wherever I can. Isn't that the solemn duty of a doting uncle after all? And it's not often that I find my wallet so pleasantly filled. So despite their father's constant nagging about financial prudence to his disinterested kids, lo and behold their devoted uncle comes along and buys them whatever they can reasonably carry to the store counter.
And we're not counting their shockingly spendthrift grandparents yet.
Lucky kids they are. And I was dead envious.
Till I realized that it does make them cherish their gifts just a bit less. When you have adoring relatives constantly bestowing largesse in the forms of gifts, it does tend to become a tad less special, doesn't it? What is one more pretty dress when you have an entire closet full already? What is one more toy gun when there's practically an arsenal enough to take down a toy nation?
Find that just a little sad.
There is a small book of poetry, something of very little significance to anyone else but me, kept wrapped up in a silk sash in my bedside drawer. Certainly faded, worn and dog-eared since it should be roughly the same age as I am, given to me on the day of my birth. Lots of fireworks and fanfare for the birth of the first child so it's easy enough to dismiss the birth of the second. So you can imagine that it was the only commemoration I had as the second child.
And I did treasure the book, possibly quite as much as Gollum with his precious ring. Think I read every simple rhyme in it, memorized every etching in the plain hand-painted drawings. Even the foreword with a brief note bearing good wishes still rings true.
To appreciate the sun, you gotta know what the rain is.
In the days of plenty, we do tend to forget how to appreciate what we already have. Wonder if years from now, my niece and nephew would still value one of their gifts quite as much.
Paul : Man, I wish I had an uncle who would buy me everything when I was a kid.
Mother : You weren't exactly impoverished.
Paul : Yeah but it's different to have an uncle just buy whatever I pick out at the store.
Since my niece and nephew do live a thousand miles away - especially with me across the Big Puddle, I do try to spoil them whenever and wherever I can. Isn't that the solemn duty of a doting uncle after all? And it's not often that I find my wallet so pleasantly filled. So despite their father's constant nagging about financial prudence to his disinterested kids, lo and behold their devoted uncle comes along and buys them whatever they can reasonably carry to the store counter.
And we're not counting their shockingly spendthrift grandparents yet.
Lucky kids they are. And I was dead envious.
 |
| What? Another LV bag? Meh. |
Till I realized that it does make them cherish their gifts just a bit less. When you have adoring relatives constantly bestowing largesse in the forms of gifts, it does tend to become a tad less special, doesn't it? What is one more pretty dress when you have an entire closet full already? What is one more toy gun when there's practically an arsenal enough to take down a toy nation?
Find that just a little sad.
There is a small book of poetry, something of very little significance to anyone else but me, kept wrapped up in a silk sash in my bedside drawer. Certainly faded, worn and dog-eared since it should be roughly the same age as I am, given to me on the day of my birth. Lots of fireworks and fanfare for the birth of the first child so it's easy enough to dismiss the birth of the second. So you can imagine that it was the only commemoration I had as the second child.
And I did treasure the book, possibly quite as much as Gollum with his precious ring. Think I read every simple rhyme in it, memorized every etching in the plain hand-painted drawings. Even the foreword with a brief note bearing good wishes still rings true.
To appreciate the sun, you gotta know what the rain is.
In the days of plenty, we do tend to forget how to appreciate what we already have. Wonder if years from now, my niece and nephew would still value one of their gifts quite as much.
1 comment:
Hi uncle, I am your long-lost nephew~~ *wink wink* LOL
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