My heart sank. Those costumes weren’t just costumes; they were memories. Arthur had adored his dragon outfit, and Ella had always laughed in her goofy gorilla suit. Now, they were replaced by something that looked like it belonged in a horror movie.
I sighed, trying to focus on the gesture rather than the loss. A gift card for $100 was taped to the note—an attempt at making amends, I supposed. But as I stared at the masks, a sense of resentment bubbled up. They’d gone through our things, rummaged in our attic, and ruined something precious without asking.
“Mom, what’s in the box?” Arthur’s voice broke through my thoughts. I quickly refolded the note and turned to face him and Ella. “Come and see,” I said, bracing myself for their disappointment.
But to my surprise, their faces lit up. Arthur grabbed the zombie mask with wide-eyed excitement. “This is awesome! Way scarier than my old costume!” Ella giggled as she slipped on the gorilla mask. “We’re like a spooky zoo!” she declared.
“You’re not upset?” I asked, stunned. “These aren’t anything like the ones you had before.”
Arthur shrugged. “Nah, these are even cooler. We can freak people out next Halloween!” Ella nodded enthusiastically. “And we can play monster hide-and-seek with them now!”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Their ability to find joy in the most unexpected things always amazed me. “Alright,” I said, “but only one round before bed!”
Their laughter filled the house as they dashed off, shouting about zombies and gorillas. Watching them, I realized something: Christmas wasn’t about perfection. It was about finding joy in unexpected places.
As Arthur yelled, “Mom, the zombie’s coming for you!” I smiled. “Oh no!” I shouted, running to hide. Sometimes, the best gifts aren’t under the tree—they’re the moments you create together.