It’s the day after Christmas (or close enough, anyhow). And you know what that means: Everyone breathes a sigh of relief that Uncle Albert is on his way home for another year. No, seriously, it means we all return all the gifts that we didn’t actually want. Except that I didn’t get any of those, or at least none that I’ll return.

We all scaled down the holiday a bunch this year—and will probably even further next year—except for my little niece, who played the social butterfly and chatted everyone’s ear off between laments of “I wish I had more presents.” My sister-in-law and I tried to explain to her that part of the fun of Christmas is seeing our family open their presents, too. I don’t know whether she got it, but I have faith that someday, she will.

I got a couple of books— What else?