We have officially entered the “Hard to Buy For” season of life. I am reminded of this every time someone asks me what we’d like for Christmas. No one has said we are hard to buy for in so many words.
It’s more the looks — the eye rolls, the raised eyebrows, the barely suppressed expressions of shock and horror. “We like those little books of car wash tickets,” I say. “Mother, I thought we agreed a car wash is not a gift.
” There was no agreement on anything. Someone just announced that a car wash is not a very exciting gift and BAM! there went the free car washes. “We like gift cards,” I say.
No, make that “love” gift cards. We must love them because our wallets are fat with them. I have a gift card so old that the theater it was for has closed.
I keep the gift card because it is a sweet memory of the person who gave it. Judging from her face, she is not enthused about the gift card suggestion. “We give big box hardware store gift cards to your husband, your sister’s husband, and your brother, and they all like them.
” “Yes, but when we give you gift cards you use them to buy things for others.” “What can I say? We like treating.” Silence.
“I could use a new bundt pan,” I say. “We just gave you a new bundt pan when you said you needed one a few years ago.” “You have me mixed up with someone else because my bundt pan is quite possibly a health hazard.
The last coffee cake tasted like Teflon.” She’s still not writing anything.
