Restraint? Hardly.

I was thinking about the festive season upon us the other day, well more a specific thought, because let's face it, most thoughts occupy the Christmas theme as it is ALL around. But I was thinking specifically about the item of presents.

Ever since I could remember, I've always known where Mum hid our presents that would be deemed from 'Santa'. Actually on that note, I don't remember ever believing in Santa. Having two older brothers and one younger, the tradition of believing that such a wonderful person who would magically deliver presents to all children across the world was lost on I. Obviously there was a time when I did believe in Santa, but seeing as though I don't remember, I feel I've never held such a naive optimism.

Being the only girl of four children, I clearly had different attitudes to the boys when it came to the secret looking at the presents. When I was younger, say 7-12, of course I took every opportunity to look at the presents while the parents were out of the house, but when I grew a bit older my morals kicked in I said, 'Hey, Mum has gone to the trouble of buying me these presents, I want them to be a surprise.' But, oh no, every year without fail, my brothers would spoil the surprise, just as they spoiled my believing-in-Santa stage. In the back of my mind however, there was always that tingling thought of wanting to know what the presents were and I secretly didn't mind being told.

And obviously my family is a lot older from the days when we woke up in the wee hours of the morning to satiate our incessant need to look at the presents before morning. But has this need gone away? I don't think we've moved on from the child within. My mother has clearly gone past the stage of hiding the presents. Although, to be honest, they were the easiest presents to find in the world - the closet, really Mum? Now the presents are just strewn across the bedroom floor, in shopping bags. The need however to know what's hidden from our eyes and knowledge still lurks in my mind. [This reminds me of Derren Brown's experiment with children alone in the room with a large red button and were told not to press it, but all couldn't resist (YouTube search has failed in delivering me the video.)] I'm nearly 18 and still, with all my restraint and morals intact, I still had to take a small peek, even just a quick glance as I passed the bags to the bathroom. This behavior is actually quite unnecessary in fact.

Most of the presents I'm getting I already know about. I've already received my large present, which was a week away with my friends at Forster, and know most of the little presents. Why therefore do I have this compulsion to look? I guess it's the same compulsion as any discovery: the search for what is unknown and what could be.

I know I'll probably wake up at about 3 am and still ponder walking into the lounge room to look at all the goodies. I know I'll deliberate at 5 am whether it's an appropriate time to 'wake up and leave my room'. And I know I'll probably end up waiting till about 5:30 am, when I usually rise that I'll venture out and tear open my Santa sack revealing mostly what I already know, with a few little surprises chucked in. At what age will this end? I guess I've still got perhaps a few years before that happens. (And yes, I would have possibly moved out by then, but that's beside the point. :D)