Now that I am nineteen years old, the gift opening process has lost some of its magic. I can’t decide if this is because I don’t have a list of thirty-five different toys I want, or because I don’t open toys that my cousins and I sit and play with on the floor together all day, or some other unknown reason. I have found more joy in watching my young cousins faces when they open their presents. I can’t help but wonder if my parents watched my face like that.
