Tis Not The Gifting Season
Not for me anyway. No. I’m not trying to be grinchy. Much. You see, gifting for me is very important. When I get you a gift, I probably spent months agonizing, shop-hoping, profiling you, asking you indirect questions and (not proud of this by the way) probably rummaging through your garbage. And the question on your mind would be, why go to all this trouble without the guarantee that I’ll get your kind of the perfect gift? The gift that I’d be sure you are going to treasure? But you see, for me it is the perfect gift. I have spent months looking for it so whether you treasure it or not is irrelevant.
Then why I’m I feeling grinchy this season, you ask? I don’t get people gifts on Christmas. First off, it’s cliché. I passionately dislike being caught up in clichés. Think. How many people are running in and out of gaudily decorated, last minute shops looking for that shirt, tie, scarf, bla? Yeah, go ahead and tell me. This is their idea of a perfect gift. Course it is! And I would not be one to look a gift horse in the teeth or mouth (seriously, this saying in my mother-tongue is hilarious. also, i take horses as gifts) so yeah. Get me that scarf or tie or toothbrush if you want. I do enjoy observing people. The general observation during this season is that people looking to buy gifts are running around like headless chicken, grabbing what they think the other person wants, or worse, asking the sales person what they think would be a perfect gift. If you are lucky, you will find a sales person who is not bored to tears with the question after answering 10 more people ahead of you, and they will be near helpful and tell you a tea set is the perfect gift for your mother. Hopefully, your brother has not ordered in a tea set from Dubai that makes yours look like it belongs in a doll house.
Also, there is a small problem of relatives. No. Really. Do you know the number of relatives I have claim to? And that number keeps growing. Take for example the get-together I attended the other day. I swear I had no idea who half the people were. Don’t you roll your eyes at me…! Not unless you have your family tree pinned up your fridge and you update it every time one of your relatives decides to bring forth another relative. And this time, I’m not even talking about relations by marriage. iCant. Now. You think it is not painful enough nodding around acknowledgements and pretending that you have understood when your mother tells you to meet the uncle to your cousin on your grandmother’s side, not the one who bore your mother, but the one your grandfather married just before he met your grandmother? Mind blowing, right? Now try and get this er….. (refer to the above relation) a perfect gift. No time to rummage through their garbage, or ask around or stalk their online profile. You look at the said relation and his new bride (*sigh*, relative plus one unknown) and think they look like a fun couple so you send them a pair of handcuffs. And word spreads around that you are in the profession that would make your great grandfather roll in his grave (Sidenote: Sneer all you want but I don’t think there’s a wrong profession) and you will have a few choice stares during the next ‘happy’ family reunion. How does negative news spread so fast through the clans anyway?
So you see, I love my relatives. Known, unknown, born, unborn…, all. But if I was to get each and everyone a christmas gift, I’d need to spend my entire life, plus a few extra lifetimes rummaging through bins, which, I know you may think it’s a perfect way to spend my life, but I get the odd feeling I can do a better job noting down birthdays and anniversaries and doing research for the perfect gift.
Ps: Please feel free to get me that Christmas gift. Pps: Mother will get a gift. Mostly because I get the feeling she has installed nanny cams in my house to watch over her grandson, and I’m not sure I have been the perfect mother, so let’s just say, pacification (not manipulation) will be at play this season. Ppps: I’m still trying to build that family tree to avoid those awkward family reunion moments. Pppps: Wait, can you use ps like this? Is it legal? Anywho, a reader called me out last night politely and indirectly demanding a post (don’t you just hate it when that happens especially when you’ve been tiptoeing around the world of writing hoping no one notices you haven’t blogged in weeks?). Which means I didn’t get much sleep, trying to come up with a decent post. Which means I’m grumpy. But I love my readers, so there. Grumpiness totally worth it.