happy birthday
To Mom.
Mom always had a weird relationship with Christmas. Being born this close to it, and named "Carol," she had certain rules about the birthday. For example, on the advent calendar, this day was hers to open no matter whose turn it was. And you could NOT buy a combined Christmas/birthday present. And you could not wrap her birthday present in Christmas wrapping paper.
But that also made it interesting to celebrate, sort of a pre-party before the main event. My mom was the kind of mom, like Bill Cosby famously pointed out, you could bring her a stick you found in the street and she'd think it was the best present ever. This kind of made it too easy, really. Made you want to do even more to get an even bigger response. Buying her drugstore stuff didn't seem right. I think that's why I hate giving, and receiving, meaningless presents like picture frames and candles. I like taking time to think about a gift, and the recipient, and giving them something they'll a) like and b) won't already have.
It's also why I'm notoriously hard to buy for. I am rarely really surprised by a present. It's gotten to the point where it's more fun for me to pick out other people's gifts than to contemplate my own. I think I invest too much in the payoff. So I overcorrect and try not to think about what I might want because I wouldn't get it. No sense building up expectation just to see it deflate.
This is how it's always been, in my family: I ask for something specific, for a reason, and I get something close but not right, in a way that makes it laughably bad. I'm not talking about asking for a Tiffany bracelet and getting a knockoff. I'm talking about like that one time several years ago when I had a prepaid cell phone and asked for the specific phone card that would work with it, wrote the serial numbers and style and everything, my dumbass sister picks out a generic calling card at the 7-11 and is a) shocked that it won't work like the one I asked for since she doesn't understand why a calling card and a prepaid cell phone card would be different, and b) shocked, shocked! that the store won't return it or credit it.
That's one example. There are others. I stopped asking for specific things because even when I asked for them, I didn't get them. Another in a long line of examples of not being important enough to be listened to, coupled with being accused of not adhering to the "it's the thought that counts" rule. So rather than beating my head against a wall, I stopped answering the question "what do you want" and do you know what I got then?
Gift cards.
Gift cards are the worst present of all time. Their slogan should be, "When you care enough to say 'I don't care enough to pick something out with any amount of thought.'" The ultimate in making it all about the monetary value and not at all about, you know, giving. It's the thought that counts, right? Except no thought is required in giving it, but you're obligated to appreciate the non thought as a thought anyway.
I think I'd rather get a stick that was in the street. Because that stick is the poster child of what it should be, which is, "I saw this and thought of you." Which means it's probably a very interesting stick.
I love Christmastime. I love the sounds and the scents, bells and the crunch of snow, cinnamon and pine logs burning in a hearth. I love eggnog and warm fuzzy slippers and tinsel and watching "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town." I love decorating and going out with a smile on my face and getting smiled back at. I like watching kids get excited about it, because when you're young Decembers take forever to come around, and when you're not, they come too quickly.
I love everything about Christmas. Except the presents.
I miss you, Mom. I miss trying to find something that would make you smile, that would show you I took the time to find something you'd like, even though you would have said that about anything. And I miss trying to find wrapping paper that isn't Chrismas paper and finding a card that's funny but not stupid. I miss the effort I had to put into it, because you appreciated it. And I'm left in a world of gift cards and people who say "it's the thought that counts" when they use no thought whatsoever and get angry when this paradox is pointed out to them.
Happy birthday.
And in five more days, Merry Christmas.
Mom always had a weird relationship with Christmas. Being born this close to it, and named "Carol," she had certain rules about the birthday. For example, on the advent calendar, this day was hers to open no matter whose turn it was. And you could NOT buy a combined Christmas/birthday present. And you could not wrap her birthday present in Christmas wrapping paper.
But that also made it interesting to celebrate, sort of a pre-party before the main event. My mom was the kind of mom, like Bill Cosby famously pointed out, you could bring her a stick you found in the street and she'd think it was the best present ever. This kind of made it too easy, really. Made you want to do even more to get an even bigger response. Buying her drugstore stuff didn't seem right. I think that's why I hate giving, and receiving, meaningless presents like picture frames and candles. I like taking time to think about a gift, and the recipient, and giving them something they'll a) like and b) won't already have.
It's also why I'm notoriously hard to buy for. I am rarely really surprised by a present. It's gotten to the point where it's more fun for me to pick out other people's gifts than to contemplate my own. I think I invest too much in the payoff. So I overcorrect and try not to think about what I might want because I wouldn't get it. No sense building up expectation just to see it deflate.
This is how it's always been, in my family: I ask for something specific, for a reason, and I get something close but not right, in a way that makes it laughably bad. I'm not talking about asking for a Tiffany bracelet and getting a knockoff. I'm talking about like that one time several years ago when I had a prepaid cell phone and asked for the specific phone card that would work with it, wrote the serial numbers and style and everything, my dumbass sister picks out a generic calling card at the 7-11 and is a) shocked that it won't work like the one I asked for since she doesn't understand why a calling card and a prepaid cell phone card would be different, and b) shocked, shocked! that the store won't return it or credit it.
That's one example. There are others. I stopped asking for specific things because even when I asked for them, I didn't get them. Another in a long line of examples of not being important enough to be listened to, coupled with being accused of not adhering to the "it's the thought that counts" rule. So rather than beating my head against a wall, I stopped answering the question "what do you want" and do you know what I got then?
Gift cards.
Gift cards are the worst present of all time. Their slogan should be, "When you care enough to say 'I don't care enough to pick something out with any amount of thought.'" The ultimate in making it all about the monetary value and not at all about, you know, giving. It's the thought that counts, right? Except no thought is required in giving it, but you're obligated to appreciate the non thought as a thought anyway.
I think I'd rather get a stick that was in the street. Because that stick is the poster child of what it should be, which is, "I saw this and thought of you." Which means it's probably a very interesting stick.
I love Christmastime. I love the sounds and the scents, bells and the crunch of snow, cinnamon and pine logs burning in a hearth. I love eggnog and warm fuzzy slippers and tinsel and watching "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town." I love decorating and going out with a smile on my face and getting smiled back at. I like watching kids get excited about it, because when you're young Decembers take forever to come around, and when you're not, they come too quickly.
I love everything about Christmas. Except the presents.
I miss you, Mom. I miss trying to find something that would make you smile, that would show you I took the time to find something you'd like, even though you would have said that about anything. And I miss trying to find wrapping paper that isn't Chrismas paper and finding a card that's funny but not stupid. I miss the effort I had to put into it, because you appreciated it. And I'm left in a world of gift cards and people who say "it's the thought that counts" when they use no thought whatsoever and get angry when this paradox is pointed out to them.
Happy birthday.
And in five more days, Merry Christmas.