She’s Fine, I Promise

So I gave my mother the gift of pain for Mother’s Day. I got her a candle labeled “Grandma’s last nerve,” and she laughed so hard she hurt herself a little.

My Mother Went Through Time And All She Got Me Was A Mug

How else am I supposed to explain how she got me a Funky Phantom mug?

There’s Also A Life Lesson In That, Come To Think

The more someone talks up the gift they say they’re getting for me, the less I’ve learned to expect. This isn’t (just) cynicism, it’s also self-preservation and courtesy because the more I build up the gift in my imagination, the more likely I am going to be unable to conceal my disappointment when the reality doesn’t match it.

Inspired By A Recent Purchase Of Mine

As much as I hate to say it, you probably are accident prone when your friends start unironically gifting you things like band-aids and non-slip sauna shoes.

Consider This A Binding Promise

Look, I’m tough to buy for, I know this. So yesterday when L’s Mother announced that my Valentine’s Day gift had arrived and that I should open it now, I felt a certain amount of trepidation.

What it was isn’t important. What is important is that it turned out to be the most thoughtful gift I have ever received . . . because after giving it some thought I will from this point forward forevermore provide L’s Mother with a list of things I would actually consider a good gift for me.

This News Increased My Base Tranquility

(Hmmmm . . . lighthearted or more broody today?  Oh, what the heck?  Let’s go with lighthearted.)

So I sent my Dad a cake for the holidays, but since I didn’t have any tracking information, I texted asking him to let me know when/if the package arrived.

His response?

“Houston, the package has landed.  All is well.  Small cake for me, but added pounds for all mankind.”