
I told my family that my husband and I had no interest in exchanging gifts with anyone (meaning them). Everyone was OK with it except for my mother, who will surely shower us with the usual array of cheap and useless Chinese-produced crap. Feeling obligated given her response to our original announcement, we're buying her Omaha steaks and chardonnay. If I could, I would hire a wait staff to cook it and serve it to her. Of course, then she would complain that I should be there to do that for her.
I have no idea what my husband wants. He won't say. It's not that he wants me to guess; I think he feels guilty for asking anyone to spend money on him.
People become so weird and complicated this time of year.
I had some money to spend, so I bought some things for me. I found a fabulous, $6 pair of pink gloves with black fur trim that match the Barbie coat exactly. I found some really lovely things at some of the alternative gift markets I happened upon this season. Mostly, though, I bought things to donate to the refugees I know. I bought things like fluffy towels, nice dishtowels, candles, matched sets of glasses, fancy shower gel with those nylon pouf thingies, gloves, hats, scarves, notebooks, office/school supplies, and all kinds of things pretty, practical, and personal. These gifts may not be extravagant or all that imaginative, but I know they will bring a moment of happiness to the people who receive them. And isn't that the point?
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