Kids also don’t have a huge amount of experience in anything, and it’s a parent’s job to teach them. This sounds incredibly obvious, doesn’t it?
Before a family Christmas celebration, when all five of us happened to be lounging around together, I announced we were playing PRESENT PRACTICE. I wrapped a toy frying pan in a muslin cloth and handed it to a child, who unwrapped it and mimed amazement. The older children and their father were all awarded points for their simulated appreciation and the baby got points just for learning to unwrap something. On the second pass we all leveled up to making a grateful comment in reaction to the particular gift, such as “this will go in my collection of frying pans” and “now I can cook one very small egg.”
For the six year old, I very seriously presented the important and tricky case study of unwrapping a large exciting box to find a single pair of socks. The child suggested a reaction of “this is great, how surprising! But,” their face changing to seriousness and the tone of giving the giftee useful feedback for the future, “I’m not very interested in socks.” They explained the utility of passing on this feedback. So, this being present practice, I received this reaction with the grace and thoughtful attention of an award-winning director, and we discussed how we would leave that part out for our more sensitive audiences.
The children also traditionally give small cheap or handmade presents to their family members. Each parent takes each child secretly in hand to prepare a present for the other parent. The six-year-old also has access to the PTA school shop, where the PTA purchase small shitty items (scented candles, bars of soap, cheap socks) and sell them to the schoolkids for £1.50 each, and wrap them on the spot. The 6-year-old carefully squeezes the value from the £10 we give them for this purpose, and squirrels away their mysterious bag of wrapped gifts like it’s a state secret. The three year old is given “pocket money,” and taken shopping. There is now emotional investment in giving; we whisper together quietly about how much people will like the gift. The three year old frequently whispers hotly into my ear about the item they chose for their grandmother (a tissue cover, lmao). The children, therefore, watch adults carefully when their own offerings are unwrapped and admired. When they see us reacting with amazement and gratitude to their gifts, it maps that pathway and lights it up. It also teaches pretty early on that giving is actually supposed to be rewarding, and is a more reliable source of cheer - as you can always control the feeling giving, while getting is tiresomely at the whim of an external giver, isn’t it? And it reinforces that a certain degree of social performance is expected.
Present Practice is a fun game to play so the kids do it to each other. It’s a funny trick to play on a parent, too. You can hand a parent something hilarious, like a potato wrapped in toilet paper, and see them try to do a Level 3 reception on it (“this will be my favorite ever potato,” I say mistily, “how did you guess what was in my heart?”)
For high-pressure present-opening situations, you can just sit back and watch, really. Even when I had to let them open USA-grandparent Christmas presents over Zoom AT the house of the British Grandparents. The children spontaneously decided to receive presents in the guise of angels. I was giving the kids wild thumbsups from behind the camera as they warmly enthused over the sentiments in the cards before even looking at the gift.
Does it sound artificial? Well, they have fun, and they’re kind, and they love giving and receiving. They’re nice and well behaved - and people love to give them presents. It’s all social performance! and you’re expecting super high-level software to run on Kid Hardware, which is like trying to program Plant Pathology 101 onto a border collie! Kind of an unfair expectation on the framework, mate!
I’d suggest the first port of call is literally - teaching kids how to get presents.
