A friend had a birthday yesterday and I got her a book voucher. Just like I did the year before. She is delighted, I think. (A voracious reader, she can be seen at borders on weeknights AND weekends. I bet she remembers all the book titles on at least 3 shelves.) But not surprised. Not even when, unlike last year, I threw in a bookmark (metal plate, custom made). Err… similar to the one I got her for Christmas 2 years ago.
This brings me back to my mother’s birthday. Last year, we (me and the other obnoxious man living in this house; the Big bro. I do love him, you know. But try leaving bread crumbs on the keyboard ONE MORE TIME) bought mum a spa package. So yesterday when the boss announces a 25% discount for a certain spa package, I pushed through the crowd and somersaulted over Sean, who was refilling the copier, and sign mum up for it. I shaved off $100 for mum’s gift this year, I thought, Nice!
Ok I see a pattern now. And a revelation. I repeat my gifts and I’m (1) A creature of habit (to put it mildly). (2) Boring (God, No!)
You see, I do put in effort in buying gifts. I’ve been known to never give a photo frame as a present. Not even to my least favorite people. I am, as I would like to think, pretty observant. I’ll look for hidden messages and in between line clues. I’ll pretty much hang around your underarms to get a sniff of your perfume/cologne and get the exact same one for your 18th birthday. Right up to the 25th.
But when I’m pressed for time, I’ll just ask the intended. But of course a woman’s way of asking is never straight. By asking, I meant incessantly emailing on preferences and “your-favorite-color-speaks-your-personality” quizzes. When the intended stop replying, consider that a strike off from the number of gifts you’ll ever need to buy in a year.
It’s the thought that counts, says the man after I jammed up his computer, searching the right “I-need-to-know-your-favorite-color-now!” quiz to send to an ex schoolmate. Sure, I agree on that. But I’ve received earmuffs, photo frames, a mug that says ‘Best Uncle!’, a 32A sized bra and a small food bowl for rabbits (I have a CAT). And I’ve since rewrap them and threw it under the Christmas tree for the company’s annual gifts exchange.
Take it from me. Buy the essentials, for a gift. It doesn’t usually cost much but it speaks volume for the effort. A few rules to watch though;
(1) When I say essentials, it does not include toiletries (Unless you consider perfumes as a toiletry, then its fine). So the next time when you hit the showers at the gym and your workout partner ask for some shampoo, that doesn’t mean she wants one for her birthday too. Unless the shampoo is the very same bottle Jessica Alba uses to wash her tresses, shampoos, soaps or anything liken to that is a No-No.
(2) China and cookware are essentials to a home, no doubt about that. But NOT to your mom. Even if you’ve broke the entire collection of china, get it replaced another time. Not on her birthday. (She wants that pearl necklace, dude!)
(3) Buying a gift is all about sincerity (a sweeping statement). Do spend a few minutes to add words in the card accompanying the present. It goes a long way. (The pearl necklace might have been broken into tiny bits by an angry chewing-cat, but the words in the card, even after a decade, bring it all back).
But then again, if you are feeling a tad adventurous, like I was last night, try asking the would-be birthday girl/boy straight out.
I tried the (seemingly) sure shot and asked the man what he wanted for his 25th. After several bouts of “there’s nothing more I need” and “a naked you covered in chocolate sauce”, he muttered the Xbox 360. Whatever that means. Ok I’m kidding. I KNOW what it means and I know what it cost. A month of my Uni's installment or a slice of my index finger.
It’s still undecided what the man is getting for his birthday. One thing for sure, it’s not the Xbox 360 (not now, at least). But I’ll be sure to throw in a tub of chocolate sauce. Oh he’ll be fine without the Xbox 360, I tell you!
