The Perfect Present

Last week, I was talking to my friend Anne about gifts. She said, "You give the best presents. You really ought to blog about it." Right. If I give the best presents, we're all in a lot of trouble. Here's a peek into my world-class, gift-giving psyche.

At some very early age, my parents, teachers, neighbors, whomever...convinced me that it is always better to make something than to buy it. For my "lucky" parents over the years, I have made a metal wastebasket, wooden coasters shaped like owls, various pottery pencil cups, hand-painted pajamas (can you imagine? And my Dad wore these things for years), potholders, pillows, and a myriad of Latch-Hook kits that, if they weren't currently on display at the Met, would be really easy to place in any room of the Brady house. When my Dad turned 60 (15 years ago), I needlepointed him a belt that had his name on it...in signal

flags. He still wears this belt. A lot. Whose fault is this? Mine, I think. The poor guy wants me to feel special...the pajamas wore out...

Anyway, now that I have children I make them stuff. Three years ago when Legos-10 was 7 and Cars-4 was 1, I hand-painted them both wooden CD holders for Christmas. It took a long time. Multiple coats of paint, hand-painted instruments on the side, varnish, sanding, more varnish. As you might imagine, the 1-year-old was ecstatic. A big, hard, red, empty, wooden thing with no trains on it, that doesn't move or make sounds. Wow, Mom. You're the best. The 7-year-old quickly pushed aside all the Star Wars Legos and Bionicles to gaze upon my amazing gift. What would he possibly want with Legos when he could have THIS? Really, his cup runneth over. This year, I took three of Legos-10's sports team T-shirts and turned them into pillows for his bed. I'm sure this will be another raging home run. Decorative throw pillows are exactly what every 10-year-old boy dreams of getting on Christmas morning.

My other really clever strategy for giving great gifts is to ask people what they want. When my Mom turned 70, we threw her a surprise birthday party and invited many of her friends, some of whom she's known since college. As the RSVPs came in, people asked if there was a group gift being organized that they could go in on. I called my Dad and told him we needed ideas. He said, "Give me a couple of days." I called him two days later and here's what I got.

Salad dressing.

He said, "Your Mom loves that Fat Free Good Seasons salad dressing and our grocery stores don't carry it any more." I waited for the other ideas. Nope. That was it. "Are you SERIOUS?" I asked him. "You want me to tell people to get Mom SALAD DRESSING for her 70th birthday?" "That's the only thing I could come up with," he said. Oh. My. God. Amusingly, I shared this story with one of her friends who actually bought her 10 packets of the dressing. Happy Birthday. "Common Grocery Items as Gifts" is a big winner with my Dad. He turned 75 in March and I asked him what he wanted. He said, "I need some of that Health Nut Bread you guys have up there...[get ready, this should sound familiar...] Our grocery stores don't carry it." Honestly, I didn't have one other idea that seemed better so I went to Jewel and the bread was on sale. I bought 12 loaves, stuck them in a box, and shipped them to South Carolina. When he called to say thanks, I said, "Dad, that was, literally, the worst birthday gift I have ever given anyone. If your friends ask you what we gave you for your 75th birthday, PLEASE tell them, 'A trip to Hawaii.' " To which he replied, "I'm just glad I didn't have to go all the way to Hawaii to get this bread." So, if you're scratching your head about what to get that hard-to-buy-for senior, make a list of foods you'd put in a bomb shelter and then shop 'till you drop.

As I reflect on gift-giving, I think it's a little like "giving" in general. If Person A says that you're the most giving person they know, Person B probably thinks you're selfish for neglecting them (which you must do in order to be so giving for Person A). Similarly, if Person A says your the best gift-giver they know, Person B thinks you're a moron (because you've spent so much time/energy thinking up a cool present for A, that B gets stuck with salad dressing and bread). Anne thinks I'm a great gift-giver because I happened to think of a present I thought she would really like, and she did. There is no genius to this; it's just luck...and good timing. But when my Dad opens up his 10-lb bag of rice next week, he'll know who to blame.