"Where is my present?"

When Paul and I go out of town alone for more than a day, with NO kids, Clark and Phil want to know where their presents are, first thing when we return, even before we have unpacked. “You’ll see. Hold your horses.” we have to remind them over and over until the big moment arrives. Here is the array of gifts that we brought back from a four-day trip in March. Each was allowed to pick one.

Clark stood there for many minutes, scratching his head and picking up each one and making a “hmmm” sound. Finally he chose the chocolate M&Ms. Phil, on the other hand, comes in, eyes something he wants, grabs it, says thank you and is gone. Paul snatched the Almond Joy before anyone else took it and I don't know what happened to the Peanut Butter M&Ms.
I just returned from four days in Utah. “Where is my present?” they each asked before I had even taken my suitcase upstairs. Two days and twenty repeats of the same question later they, along with Paul, received their gifts which they all liked and are as satisfied getting a hat or shirt as they are a candy bar.