Cash, a Rude Request?

Office gift exchanges can sometimes be a painfulup the next one. The slim, flat object turned out to be
experience.a package of bicycle reflectors.
What happens if you draw the name of that oneNot owning a bike, and following the natural line of
person in your office that makes your skin crawl? Orprogression, I proclaimed, "Wow! You got me a bike??"
worse, what if you make the skin crawl of the person
who drew your name?"Huh? No."
Gifts are suppose to be from the heart. How can itOkaaaaaay.
come from the heart if that person makes your heart
shrivel up faster than a vienna sausage that's been leftThis had to be going somewhere. Didn't it?
in the sun?
I continued opening.
I enjoy the art of gift giving - and it is an art.
An air freshener in the shape of a yellow foot. The
Giving the perfect gift requires thought, time andkind you hang from your rear view mirror and can buy
effort. The perfect gift says, 'I know who you are and Iat any AM PM Mini Mart for a buck fifty.
celebrate you.'
"That's so you won't get sick when you ride in my
What then happens to the gift-giving-challenged?car." (My husband being a smoker who has been
Better yet, what happens to the receiver of thoseregulated to only smoking outside on the deck or in his
gifts?truck.)
My husband is the worst gift giver... ever.A palm sized book of kitten photos.
It never fails to amaze me how someone who has"You like kittens, right?"
lived with you for years on end, can just not get it. (We
just began our 10th year of marital bliss.)A box of ant stakes.
I have come to dread special occasions. My last"You know, cuz of the ants." (Very thoughtful, being
birthday was the worst.that it was summer and I had been battling to keep the
ants out of the kitchen.)
On the morning of my birthday, my husband sat me
down on the couch and proudly approached with anTo his credit, the last gift I opened was The Best of
arm full of gifts. The previous year's birthday gift hadChris Farley from Saturday Night Live. Ok, I could live
been a big fat nothing. (Husbands take note: never givewith that one.
your wife nothing on her birthday - unless you hate her
and intentionally want her to feel totally worthless.)As I sat there with my assortment of gifts and my
Seeing him approach with the gifts, I felt a tinge ofstate of shock, I couldn't help but wonder just how
hope.much this man despised me or if a request for cash
would be rude.
With the expectant look of a puppy searching for a
new home, my husband sat in front of me andWhen Christmas came, I attempted to install a "no
beckoned that I begin opening my gifts.gifts" policy. Emphasizing that it just wasn't in the
budget - and truthfully, I couldn't survive ant stakes
I picked up the first small package and lightly shook itunder the Christmas tree.
back and forth. My husband prodded, "Just open it."
But my husband insisted, "It's Christmas. I have to get
Removing the wrapping revealed a box of staples -you something."
the kind for a staple gun that you would use around
the house.Christmas day arrived and my husband handed me
an envelope containing a gift certificate to Borders
"So is this my new staple gun?" I asked, patting aBooks.
square package sitting on the table. I was excited. I
had been wanting one.I hugged him.
My husband got a puzzled look on his face, "Huh?"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
No."
Copyright (c) 2005 Maureen Valdes Marsh all rights
The opening of the square box produced a smallreservedMaureen Valdes Marsh is a former
puzzle of white kittens, sitting in a row, on a pinknewspaper reporter. She currently writes a
background. It was the perfect gift for a puzzlesemi-punctual weekly column on her website called,
enthusiast or a 10-year-old girl. Last time I checked, I"Musings of Vintage Grace." She is the author of the
was neither.upcoming book for Collectors Press, "Be There or Be
Square: Fashion's Flare in the 1970s", set for release
My hopes were fading but I forged ahead and pickedFall '06.