It’s that time of year again. The time when stockings are hung by the fire, the tree is lit up with reds and greens, and I’m obligated to get presents for everyone.
And this year, well, it may not happen. It’s not that I don’t have the time or I don’t appreciate my family or even that I don’t have enough money. It comes down to my sheer will to not put in the effort. Don’t get me wrong, I love giving. I love contributing. I love seeing my Mom open her present only to say “oh, that’s nice honey” and giving a try-hard smile while she fumbles with the fidget spinner I got her that has Guy Fieri’s face on it.
I don’t want to do it because I know whatever I give somebody they may or may not like it and they’re never going to let me know how they feel until I see their gift being re-gifted back to me because they forgot I gave it to them.
(Yes, I got the fidget spinner back.)
It’s a lot of confusion. It’s a lot of misery. It’s a lot of stress on my end to find out the particular quirky things everyone is interested in and then getting a gift that matches their personality, their style, and their hidden, deepest, darkest secret.
How was I supposed to know little Mary wanted the Shop-Kins Fashion Boutique with a mini, working hair dryer or that Bob was looking forward to getting a bright green filing cabinet filled to the brim with Coca-cola cans or Louis who wanted fluffy hand-cuffs with the words “there’s no safe word” placard in the middle of the chains?
How am I to know any of this unless I’m in constant contact with them on a daily basis?!
And I get the whole “I just wanted to be thought of,” but we all know that’s code for “If you don’t get me something that relates to who I truly am I will scream into my pillow until my head pops-off.”
That’s a lot of pressure to put on me.
I could go the route of home-made gifts, but we know all too well my macaroni necklace will end up in their garbage or their next meal.
I could just give them a card, but if there’s no money in it? Again with the screaming into the pillow.
If I ever have kids I’m going the route of the mother who doesn’t succumb to cultural norms in America and I’m just going to take them to a local thrift store where they can pick out used napkins and blankets to make a fort or something.
I mean, I used to love the holidays when I was little. I used to love waking up my parents at 4:00AM to ask if it was time yet and then getting yelled at and crying. I had a great experience with Christmas, but as I’ve grown older I’ve realized…it’s just a day.
It’s just a day out of the year that we have designated to spoiling the kids and wishing we were Jewish.
If you’re not Christian and you don’t believe in Jesus, but you still celebrate December 25th for no real reason, well, then you’re just being “used by the system man” (-guy with dreadlocks on a ratted couch with two bongs beside him, being held like ladies.)
I’d like to think that we can all truly give a day to give.
A day where we are selfless and only think of the wants of our family, but let’s be honest, that’s not going to happen. Especially for the families with the conservative, right-wing, “Make America Great Again” Uncle who always seems to have always just finished a beer. Nobody wants to give that guy a gift unless it’s the gift of education and a stern talking to.
And then there’s the other factor of giving everyone equal gifts because I know I like some people more than others, but as a passive and non-confrontational human, I don’t want them to ever have that information. So if I get one a gold bracelet and the other a packet of toothpicks, it will be obvious who I favor more.
Anywho…
That is my exasperated, over-the-top explanation as to why I’m not getting people gifts this year.
Happy Holidays and a Hopefully-Better-Than-2017 New Year.
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