As a kid, I always knew we were rich.
Opening presents on Christmas morning usually took over an hour — partly because Santa went a little overboard, but mostly because Lisa opens presents slower than molasses in January.

Every Easter, we practically got a new spring wardrobe — new shorts and shirts for summer, maybe some outdoor toys, sandals, and a few nice outfits. It always felt like a seasonal upgrade — trading static-filled sweaters for flip-flops, mosquito bites, and the sweet smell of fresh-cut grass.