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Happy Thanksgiving

The living room was filled with 17 kids, discarded wrapping paper, and plenty of noise. Their parents lingered in the kitchen area, making sure no major skirmishes broke out among the kids, but not interfering too early in the smaller ones. After all, kids have to learn early on to negotiate and share too.

Lacey just turned five and was the reason for the party. She was disappointed because she had invited her entire kindergarten class – 60 kids total, but only 16 showed up with at least one of their parents. All brought gifts.

Strewn before her were dolls and toys related to the dolls, miniature robots, and hair and clothing accessories. Her parents already spent a few hundred bucks for clothing the weekend before, but the clothes never made it to the birthday gift pile. The parents might Ooo and Ahh over the cute clothes, but the other five-year-olds wouldn’t be impressed, nor would they care. They would ogle and be envious over some of the toys, but clothing? Not a chance.

After the last of the kids had gone, Lacey sat with her new gifts all around her.

“Is that all?” she asked no one in particular.

“Honey, why don’t you help me gather up all this wrapping paper and throw it in the garbage?” her mom asked.

“Is that all?” Lacey said again, this time with an exaggerated pout and her arms crossed.

“Sweetie. You need to be grateful for what people give you. What did you want that you didn’t get?”

“A Lamborghini.”

Her father asked the same question she first asked, “Is that all, Lacey?”

“No,” said Lacey as she rattled off the latest toys she’d seen advertised on television.

“Would you be happy then, Lace?”

Lacey considered her father’s words.

“No, Daddy. I want it all. And then I’ll be happy.”

“Tell you what, Kiddo. You play with all the toys you have here and in your bedroom and in that big toy room you have for a full year. Oh, and the ones out in the yard too. Play with all of them – every single one – for a full year and we’ll get you more, okay?”

“Promise?”

“Sure,” said her father, knowing full well she’d never be able to play with the hundreds of toys she already had and might even discover a few she’s never played with before.

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