Wednesday, December 15, 2004

When Your Family Breaks The Gifting Rules, But It's OK, Because The Gift Rocks

A few years ago my immediate family decided to forgo exchanging gifts. We'd done the "draw names" thing for years, but the fact is that we're all lucky enough not to want for much, so we passed on gifting altogether.

(My parents, of course, have a self-granted lifetime exemption from the process. "We, of course, always reserve the right to give you gifts," my Mom says. And so it shall be.)

It went well enough the first year ... and frankly, it was great to only buy for my wife and a few others (people, not wives). It also greatly loosened my wallet in giving to charity, which was fulfilling, too.

Of course, there's always an iconoclast. And usually in my family, it's my brother, who after growing his hair to his ass in high school and declaring he wasn't going to attend college, is now a partner in a prestigious national law firm and manger of one of its larger offices. (Not coincidentally, just to prove he's still an iconoclast, his hair is back down to his ass after a 20-year hiatus). But last year it was my sister--a total shocker, given that she's always been the "good" one--who broke ranks and in full violation of the family code sent gifts to her siblings.

True, they were small gifts, but still ... it left the rest of us on the wrong end of the reciprocity seesaw.

So today I get home from work and, sitting by our front door, is a parcel from my sister. "God damn it," I say, quickly scrambling to figure out what we can get to Austin in time. But then, as I open the parcel ... those little angel farts piss me off ... I start to realize what she's sent.

My sister, in her infinite wisdom, has sent beer. And not just any beer: Shiner Bock. Twelve of them, lovingly wrapped by hand in bubble wrap, along with a great rum cake and some package for my wife that, for me, was frankly just window dressing at that point.

Shiner. My favorite beer during frequent trips to Texas. Sitting cool in my refrigerator.

My sister rocks. She can break ranks as much as she pleases. And she knows the quick route to my heart: fine liquor on a fast pour. God. Bless. Her. And you should all be so lucky.

By-the-by, I include all those hyperlinks in these posts so that you follow them. They lead to interesting and often surprising things. So if you're not clicking, you're missing on a whole lot of this creative blogging cool Internet surfing tour thing I got goin' here. So, g'head. Click.

2 Comments:

At 7:45 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

And they talk about "brotherly love". . . let's hear it for all of the loving thoughtful sisters out there.

p.s. Is your brother's hair really that long? g

 
At 11:26 AM, Blogger Everett said...

Well, not quite to his ass. But close.

 

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