Are you a peeker? A box shaker?\r\nI peeked once. I can\u2019t remember how old I was, maybe as old as 10, and one afternoon, a couple of weeks before Christmas, I got wise to where the presents were stashed. For whatever reason, my parents were out of the house, and so I told my toddler sister, her eyes as big as saucers, not to tell anyone, but, we were going to peek at our Christmas presents.\r\nAnd we did. I can\u2019t even remember what the toys were, probably Barbie dolls and board games; I just remember the thrill of breaking the rules and getting one over on Christmas, which, as a child was THE MOST IMPORTANT DAY OF THE YEAR. Unfortunately, the thrill was accompanied by the dread of having done something wrong and the fear of getting caught. I had defied my parents, and also, it almost felt like I sucked some of the joy out of the holiday.\r\nI never peeked again.\r\nNow, that doesn\u2019t mean that I haven\u2019t stolen a glance inside a gift bag to see if I could \u201caccidentally\u201d see what\u2019s inside or furtively glanced into a shopping cart during a holiday shopping trip. Okay, maybe I am a bit of a peeker.\r\nNow, the Big Peeking Incident happened at my dad and step-mom\u2019s house. I never peeked at my mom\u2019s house. I never had to: my mother loves presents. She loves giving them; she loves getting them. She gets so excited around Christmas time that, when I was a teenager, I rarely had anything under the tree come Christmas morning, because, in the weeks leading up, she had already given me all of my presents.\r\nI don\u2019t know if my kids are peekers, but I do know they are box shakers. Once the presents go under the tree, all bets are off. They eyeball, they measure, they scrutinize. They shake. Then, they start guessing.\r\n\u201cIs it Legos?\u201d\r\n\u201cIs it a DS?\u201d\r\nTheir gazes fall to the floor: \u201cIs it socks?\u201d\r\nLuckily, I am so disorganized that, anymore, the presents rarely make it to the living room before Dec. 23, so they don\u2019t have much time to inspect the packages.\r\nMy father lives out West, so he sent the girls\u2019 gifts via Amazon. He emailed me last week telling me to look out for the package and to make sure and intercept it before the girls did, because the presents weren\u2019t wrapped.\r\nWell, guess what? When I got home last night, my younger one greeted me with an extra sparkle in her eyes.\r\n\u201cWe got a package from Gramps,\u201d she said.\r\n\u201cGood!\u201d I said. \u201cDon\u2019t open it.\u201d\r\n\u201cToo late,\u201d she said.\r\nThe older one jumped in. \u201cDid he get me the Sims 4?\u201d\r\nThe younger one can\u2019t lie. She just started backing away, her face filled with joy.\r\n\u201cNo more opening packages!\u201d I yelled.\r\nA little while later, I asked the younger one if she\u2019d seen her present, too.\r\n\u201cUh huh,\u201d she beamed. Then she said, \u201cSince we\u2019ve already seen the presents, can we just have them now?\u201d\r\nNo.\r\nSo, this was a case of accidental peeking. I\u2019ll still wrap the things and put them under the tree, but I haven\u2019t decided if I\u2019ll label them as being from Gramps, or if I\u2019ll label them from someone else, just to throw them off the scent a bit. At least I know they\u2019re vibrating with anticipation, because, even though they know what they\u2019re getting, they still can\u2019t have it yet.\r\nThey\u2019ll just have to shake the packages and wait till Christmas.