One Present Peeker Who Got Caught
I was a peeker, too, and a good one, or so I thought. Mom always hid gifts under the bed, and she was a late wrapper, so I could open the end of the bag and put it back exactly as it had been, content to know that “Santa” was bringing most of what was on my list. I’d go so far as to erase my tracks across the green wall-to-wall carpeting on my way out of my parent’s bedroom. One year I got careless or Mom got fed up; she made me give my most wanted gift to my best friend that Christmas; a gift I’m sure my friend had no interest in, which made the punishment that much worse. I never peeked again.
And I have to say it’s better that way. The thrill of surprise and the building anticipation is worth it.