Looking back, I’m still trying to figure out the exact moment I lost the game. How did my own daughter play me so royally? How did I fall for such a convincing, long-term performance?

The only logical explanation is that while I was playing checkers, she had been playing 4D chess. My daughter, Tai, had been fifteen steps ahead of me the entire time.

It all started when Christmas was approaching, and the season of writing letters to Santa began. My girls, Nini and Taitai, had a nightly ritual of adding a “short call” to Santa at the end of their prayers. It was precious, until I heard the specific request on Tai’s list: Drums.

Drums! My internal alarm bells started ringing instantly. Where on earth was I going to find drums? More importantly, where in our apartment were we going to put them? We had a decent amount of space, but certainly not enough for a percussion kit, and there wasn’t a chance in the world our neighbors would tolerate the constant banging.

Luckily, Christmas came and went. Thanks to many gifts from family and from me, Tai seemed to move on. I breathed a sigh of relief, convinced I had successfully dodged a bullet.

Oh, how wrong I was.

The night after Thanksgiving the following year, after tucking her in, I heard a familiar little voice finish her prayers.

“Dear Santa, please don’t forget to send me my drums this year.”

I kissed her forehead and played dumb, hoping the request would fade like it had the previous year.

I was mistaken. It became a nightly ritual, a reminder to Santa to check his mail. “Santa,” she would say, “I know you didn’t send me the drums last year, but this year I know you will. I know this year is my year.”

She had me. For 24 months, she had been laying the groundwork, waiting for the perfect moment to execute her plan. She was a total mastermind.

Realizing the prayer campaign wasn’t going to stop until she got what she wanted, I put my research skills to the test. I didn’t want to crush her enthusiasm for music. I simply needed a solution that encouraged it without turning our apartment into a rehearsal studio for a rock band.

I finally struck gold: a set of compact electronic drum pads. They took up very little space, included pedals, and had rave reviews for sound quality. The best part? They came with headphones. 

Tai could explore a new instrument and discover a new way to express herself, while I didn’t have to hear a single decibel to preserve the peace at home. It felt like a win for both of us.

Looking at her now, I have to give myself a little grace. What I thought was simply a battle over drums was, in fact, a little girl trying to tell me who she was becoming. She wasn’t asking for a noisy toy. She was asking me to believe in something she already saw in herself. She was asking for another way to make music.

Watching her play the violin with such confidence now reminds me how important it is to nurture a child’s curiosity, even when it arrives in inconvenient packaging. I’m proud of her persistence, but I’m even prouder that she has developed such a genuine love for music. Buying those drums wasn’t giving in; it was saying yes to something much bigger than a Christmas wish.

Today, those drums sit in our little music corner, alongside the keyboard, acoustic guitar, cello, and violin. Every now and then, I’ll hear Tai playing them, and it always makes me smile.

If you’re a parent currently bracing for a “must-have” request, consider this your warning: if your child is as persistent as Tai, they’ve probably already mapped out a strategy you haven’t even seen yet. Stay one step ahead, or, in my case, simply accept that you’ll eventually be outmaneuvered.

I just wish I hadn’t been so easy to play.

Then again, I suppose that’s what happens when you’re raising a mastermind.

© 2026 Addie DeRose