Monday, November 7, 2011

A visit to VincentWorld

Women, Cesar. Heck, women, men.. it doesn't matter really. Gifts for whomever you chose to buy them for are a symbol of the care and thought you put into another person. There are a variety of "types" of gifts. They range from gifts that are meant to be a joke, otherwise known as 'gag' gifts, to trinkets that are souvenirs, to gifts that are specifically chosen as representations of deep love. They can be as extravagant or as simple as you wish, and expense really has nothing to do with it. A gift, whether it costs a pretty penny or is handmade, is only worth as much as the receiver will value it.

So now I'm going to tell you a funny story. When I was younger I learned a lot about my mother mainly in that there were very few things she actually desired. She was more of a gift giver than a receiver so one Mother's Day I paid very close attention to what she might like. The holiday came closer and as usual, my father was last minute about it. He's a wonderful man, your Grandpa Harley, brilliant really. But also very last minute about gifts. We jumped from store to store in search of a movie I told him mom would want. Love Potion #9. A romantic movie, but one she wanted. If I had been older I would have realized that store hopping probably wasn't as fun or as practical for my father as it was for my brother and I as children. Eventually, my father settled on a new idea... Highlander. I told him it was wrong. I told him there was no way. He rationalized it. He told us that he remembered she had seen it once and liked it, and that was that.

As I child, I was all too proud to vocalize my victory. To announce that the look on my mother's face translated her disappointment was overkill, but I didn't know any better. I just knew that I was right. It probably hurt my dad's feelings a lot. Then again, since my mom's feelings were hurt as well, so it probably evened out quite nicely. Of course, I won't bother to tell you about the time my dad got my mom coffee pots on three consecutive holidays.. though I like to bring it up whenever I can. He's definitely gotten better these past few years, but it still makes for some hilarious stories.

So please, take note, but laugh when I tell you that your father is ridiculous. Sometimes I like to say that he lives in VincentWorld. In VincentWorld, things are much different. I don't talk nearly as much and my opinions are vastly different. This is why I had little expectations when your father left to Mexico, and promised to bring us back his usual trinkets. I asked for a bottle of liquor, but he insisted he was going to get one anyway, and that he would bring me back something else... so expectations rose a tiny bit. Then, he told me during a phone call he had gotten me something that I was really going to like... and my expectations rose a bit higher. First thing I pictured was a little skull from the recent Day of the Dead celebration... something like that. I could add it to my Halloween collection for next year. Your father has this silly little rule going on that he "doesn't buy girls jewelry," so that was out of the question. Okay, I get his rule. I don't like it (somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice squeaks, "but I'm not a girl.. I'm... I'm special, aren't I?").  But just because you have that rule doesn't mean you get to slack off and buy whatever! So are you ready for the funny part? Your father presents me with a little toy guitar. I felt so bad, because my thought process told me that you are the kid, you're the baby, so when he said he had something for you also, I immediately thought he was trying to trick me, that he was going to pull out something beautiful and pretend like he had switched the gifts around. Nope. Nope. Nope.

Above: Your present and mine. You got a little sombrero, and that's my guitar which I donated to you. Honestly, I wonder if he just bought you the hat and guitar and forgot about me altogether. I'm joking of course. (November 2011)

I'm sure I looked a little confused when I said, "Um, what am I supposed to do with this?" Of course, naturally I was scolded for being unappreciative, but in my defense I couldn't help it! I gave you the guitar instead, and at least you got some great use out of it. I'm really glad you like it, because I would have felt just awful if no one were around to appreciate it. And please, honey, it's not that I didn't appreciate what your father was trying to do. I just sometimes wonder if he knows me as well as I think he does. On a funny note, I was so upset that I had to count all of the other reasons your father is so wonderful, and as I did I found that I was less and less hurt and more amused by the audacity of it. Your father is terrible at gift selection, but it just means that I have to be specific (insist on that bottle of liquor!). There's no use in letting one flaw cancel out ten great qualities that your father has about him. I'm certain that in VincentWorld I really liked the gift and it was all I'd ever wanted and RealWorld Amanda probably hurt your dad's feelings by the recoil reflex that was beyond my control.

So that's my funny story for you about your father and I for now. At least he returned in one piece, and that is something I am extraordinarily grateful for.

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