The six-year-old sits atop a glacier of gifts.
She asks for silence, ensures all eyes are on her, and begins the ritual of unwrapping.
She smiles dutifully and gives thanks until the glacier has melted into a sea of toys and the audience have dispersed.
“Can we take my new remote-controlled car to the park?” she asks.
“Sure, birthday girl,” I smile.
She drives her car around the park merrily, until she sees a boy with a remote-controlled helicopter.
She looks longingly at the helicopter, then scornfully at her car.
And I am crushed.
Because in this moment she becomes what we all become: a consumer.
And I know she will never be content.
The Male Nanny