Part of the delight of Christmas morning is opening up fresh, shiny, untouched gifts. Our new stuff gets wrapped in colorful paper outside of the boxes and layers of protective plastic by the Asian teenagers who made them for us. Jan’s great-grandson is still a baby, so he probably didn’t care one way or the other about the condition of his gifts, but the grown-up family members did. The high chair they bought him had been used. Used a lot. And it was covered with food and mold. It should be their baby who has the privilege of throwing spaghetti on his high chair, not someone else’s. [More]
