Book Swappers BEWARE!

It seemed like a good idea at the time. A book swap instead of presents for J's third birthday party. Although I had never attended a party with a book swap, I knew they were pretty popular around here. In case you are not familiar with book swaps, here's how it works. Each child who attends the party brings a wrapped book, At some point, all the kids sit in a circle and each kid gets to pick a book to take home.
A nice concept, right? One that screams: "We are not a shallow family! We are deep! We value literature, not meaningless toys!
OK.
Here's where this line of thinking backfired. WE equals parents. As far the kid whose birthday it is well, that's a different story.
Perhaps if E had a book swap first, things would have been different. But at E's birthday in January, it was all about the presents. It was all about transformers, Spiderman, hotwheels, you name it. I remember J watching in awe and envy as his older brother opened all those presesnts.
I suppose as his birthday approached he thought in what is now becoming the usual, ongoing sibling rivalry (are children just born knowing how to say "Na na na na na"?), now it's my turn.
Then came the party. As the guests arrived and the wrapped books piled up, Jonas got excited. "Look at all these presents for me mama!" He said.
"Well no, sweetie," I explained. "These are for all the kids."
He stared at me blankly.
"Where are my presents?" he asked.
"Well you already got lots of presents, you know, from me and daddy. And Nana."
Again, the blank stare.
Later, after the party, J was still searching for his missing gifts. He'd see an empty bag. "Is that my present in there, mommy?" Even a simple scrap piece of gift wrap induced longing. "Is this mine mommy?"
"Well no honey, but look at the great new books you got from the book swap!"
"Yes, mommy - a batman book!"
"Yes!" I said relieved, thinking his sadness, his feeling of being ripped off had passed.
Then, the next morning on our way to school, he asked what his friend Kyle gave him.
"He brought a book," I said.
Then E had to chime in and say, "Justin got me a spiderman for my birthday" and I snapped in typical mommy dearest fashion: "No more talking about birthdays! What does it matter what Justin got you anyway?" In the rear view mirror Ethan looked stunned.
But the worst was yesterday...now four days post-party. We're driving in the car when out of nowhere J says, "I didn't want all my friends to take my books at my party."
I wanted to cry. I'm still not sure which one of us is more scarred from this whole swapping experience: him or me.