Interview on “bad gifts”
December 16th, 2009
A fun article from a military-families magazine on what not to give for holiday presents, featuring an interview with moi.
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That’s a wonderful article. One of the toughest social skills to master in life (and the earlier, the better) is to be gracious when opening presents that you don’t like. I think I had my first lesson when I was about nine and I’d received Fonzie paper dolls (or something like) that in a Girl Scout gift swap. I must have been the only kid on earth at that time who did not like The Fonz–in fact, I hated him with the fiery passion of a thousand suns, all the more so because everyone my age (and seemingly in the entire USA) thought he was so “cool.” I just thought he was a moron.
I was incredibly vocal in my outrage at having drawn this present, loudly declaring my disgust and announcing that whoever had brought this monstrosity to the gift swap surely was a clueless, horrible person… not realizing that the poor girl who’d brought the thing was sitting right there next to me, almost in tears (even at that age, I had a sharp tongue and an impressive vocabulary, and it was only later, as an adult, that I could appreciate what it must have been like to be on the receiving end of my tirade).
My mother was at the party; she promptly pulled me aside and gave me one of the worst dressing-downs of my childhood. Thirty-odd years later, my ears are still burning. “But I HATE The Fonz!!!!” I wailed. Mom scolded me that no matter how awful a present I received, my job was to be polite, and how horrible I was for hurting that poor girl’s feelings. She marched me right over (hand on the scruff of my neck, I’m sure) and made me apologize.
Then, because she’s a great mom, she found a kid who adored The Fonz (it wasn’t difficult) and who was disappointed with the plain old big-toothed comb she’d been given, and arranged a swap. The other girl was ecstatic to get the paper dolls, and I was thrilled to get a comb big enough to pull tangles out of even my crazy mop of hair. I had that comb almost until I went to college.
That lesson has stayed with me to this day, serving me well when, for example, the same department secretary pulled my name two years in a row for the office Christmas swap on my first job, and she gave me a blah mug (probably a re-gift) the first year, and a set of padded hangers (I’m guessing also a re-gift) the second year. I thanked her sincerely both times, then took the items home and had a laugh with my family. Sometimes a good story really is better than a good gift.
My current boss has provided me with enough fodder so that I could write a novel on horrible gift-giving practices. Nothing beats the time she told me to create a certificate of appreciation for myself (she was giving out the certificates at our last department meeting of the year). Over the phone, she dictated the wording on the certificate, and then she instructed me, “Act surprised when I give it to you.” That story has gotten a lot of mileage at parties; it’s the gift that keeps on giving!
EA Week, every part of your comment is pure win. And are you and I exactly the same age? I laughed at the Fonzie thing–but I REALLY laughed at the “plain old big-toothed comb”! The kind you wore in your back jeans pocket, right?
MC, I’m 42. I think this probably makes us the same age, or close to it–Children of the Seventies (and Adolescents of the Eighties!).
I never carried the big comb in my back pocket (though plenty of other kids did, usually in imitation of The Fonz, which meant I wouldn’t have done that anyway, just to be contrary). I think it was too big to fit, actually! It was a huge comb, which is why I loved it (as a kid, I had enough hair for five people).
The only hair-grooming instrument I ever carried around with me was a small hairbrush, which I didn’t start doing until high school, which is when I started carrying a pocketbook.
Wow, was that TMI?
Hah, we are exactly the same age!