It's almost Christmas. I hope you have already picked out pretty frilly or velvety dresses to give to all of your nieces and nephews.
One Christmas memory that to this day still sort of aches happened at age 9. A number of gifts under the tree were marked for me. A family tradition was that Mom would hand out the gifts one at a time rather than us just ripping into them. Well, as she pulled out some of those with my name, she said, "Oh, wait. This was mismarked." She then handed it to my 15-year-old sister, and I could only watch as she opened another gift of some pretty clothing item.
As we got to the end of the packages, Mom and Dad told us to wait as he stepped out. He came back in a moment later with new bikes - one for me, the other for my 11-year-old sister (pink, of course). The mismarked gifts were decoys so we wouldn't wonder why we had so few gifts under the tree. I'd be surprised if either of my sisters recalls that particular occurrence, but it is burned into my memory, and still comes back 55 years later.
That bike was a great gift - I got a lot of good use out of it - but Mom and Dad had no clue how much of a tease their decoys were.