A few years ago, my dad bought my mom a birthday gift. This may not seem like news because, well…that’s what husbands are supposed to do.
But you need to know a little bit about my dad. Sometimes, the less he does, the better it is for everyone. The man has a heart of gold, he really does. But he just has no instincts for people, women in particular.
That’s why when he brings home a $10 lotto ticket for my mom on Christmases, anniversaries, and birthdays she’s able to smile and say thank you like she really means it. Because in all reality, she does. But she’s not thanking him for the lotto ticket (that she files away with the rest of her marital disillusionment). She’s thanking him for not getting her a real gift.
Which brings me back to a few years ago. My dad comes home with a dart board he found at a church rummage sale. A dart board, people. He hung it in our rec room and gave it whirl. Minutes later we had 9 new holes in our dry wall. My mom was none too pleased. Needless to say, it was back to the Super lotto the next year.
I bring up this little story because its Christmas and I’m home after 4 months in New York. He must have missed me or something because he got me a few gifts. My dad has NEVER gotten me a gift before. I walk into my room and I find this sitting on my desk:
“What the hell is that?” I ask:
“I don’t know,” my dad replies…”but I find them at a church rummage sale. On sale.”
Then I find out from my sister that he’s been working on assembling these toys for the last few days, apparently preparing for my arrival.
You might guess that I found this to be a sweet gesture. That it’s not really about the gift, it’s really the thought that counts.
Not me. I thought, “What the fuck am I going to do with a remote control submarine?”
As I was thinking this, my dad walks in and says he got me another gift.
So I guess those were gag gifts, I think to myself. I suppose this one’s going to be the deal breaker.
Then he hands me:
He explains to me how it was leftover from the church rummage sale.
“It’s very fashion,” he says.
I explain to him: “Hey, I really appreciate the gesture, but as you can see from the picture, this man has long beautiful, golden locks and it just works with the…um. Body garment. I’m just not sure I could pull it off.”
He stares at me blankly.
“Last one at rummage sale. It’s very fashion”
“Thanks pop. I’ll wear it in New York.”
Next year, I’m asking for a lotto ticket.