Every year, just after Thanksgiving, packages that I didn't order start arriving on my doorstep. Initially, it freaks me out - a package sitting on my porch, addressed to me, when I know I did not order anything from Target (at least, not lately). But then I giggle a little and grin and realize that, no, I didn't order it. Best Friend ordered it. And it's a Christmas present for one of her two girls.
I love that. I love that all the Christmas gifts for my goddaughters start out at my house. I love that Best Friend and I will talk in code about what has arrived or has yet to arrive. I love opening the boxes and seeing what will make those girls smile on Christmas morning. I love that they have no clue that this happens. And I will love, when they are older, telling them the stories about how my house was, in fact, their North Pole.