While he was certainly yearning for a return to yuletide innocence, Jason felt it best not to go overboard. After all, at 2-years-old, how could he make sure that he held onto his present from Christmas future until the end of the night? No, it was simply too risky. Ten would be the best age; it’d be his last Christmas before he learned Santa wasn’t real, even if Brett and Michael had been trying to convince him otherwise for years before that.
His mind made up, Jason set out with the ornament in hand, hoping he could discretely place it on the tree without drawing too much attention to himself. He’d also have to snag a box and some wrapping paper from the hallway closet. As Jason made a grand appearance before his family, he was met with a few comments about his extended evening absence, but most were glad he’d finally decided to come be social. His cousins’ parents were especially happy to see him and noted how withdrawn he’s been these past few Christmases, demonstrating very little awareness that one of the primary drivers of that seclusion would be their cocky, annoying sons.
As Jason exchanged niceties with everyone, including a certain cousin or two, he managed to casually slip the angel ornament onto the tree, weaving the motion naturally into a seemingly casual inspection of the tree’s branches. Finally, he slipped out past everyone to grab the necessary wrapping supplies. As he approached the stairs, wrapping paper in hand, it was none other than Michael who caught him on his return trip to the safety of his room.
“Hey, Jase! Whadya get for me this year?” Despite his age, Michael’s tone came off as ridiculously juvenile.
“Well, that’d be spoiling the Christmas magic if I told you right now, wouldn’t it, Michael?” Jason tried to brush him off, ascending the stairs despite his pestering.
Michael shouted up after him, laughing, “Hope it’s better than some undies, man!”
His cousins had always gotten a kick out of his parents’ decision to get him underwear every year, a trend that continued even to this day. In fact, Jason rarely ever had to buy his own underwear since his parents kept him stocked each Christmas.
Having ditched Michael for the peaceful solitude of his room, Jason began the operation, deciding first that it’d be fitting to gift his past self some underwear from the present, electing to wrap a red plaid pair of men’s boxers. He needn’t even open the gift in front of everyone; he could just grab the box and hide it in his room until Christmas was over.
With the boxers wrapped, Jason waited until his company had found themselves too tired and left for their hotels. Then, when his parents were asleep, Jason crept downstairs with the boxers in one hand and the tiny tighty-whities in the other. He placed the box near the back of the tree and hid the briefs under it, not really sure where the most appropriate place would be for them.
Exhausted from even his brief interactions with his family, and especially with his cousins, Jason got ready for bed, cleaning up and donning a white undershirt and some blue boxers. Up until this point, he’d been putting a lot of stock in this ornament’s alleged powers. It was only now that he began to question whether or not it would even work. Perhaps he was just needed it to work badly enough that he didn’t really care about going through with the ridiculous ritual. Whatever the case, Jason was tired and ready for Christmas day, whatever it may bring.