Knizzles was hosted by the lovely Clmi last night. I was looking forward to seeing her place, because
a) she has not succumbed to the Catspiracy; and
b) if it was anything like her blog, I was going to have to lick everything there.
Fortunately, she'd made an apple cake and various other goodies, thus saving the rest of her abode from my drooling. Mostly. I don't know what happened to that collection of multi-coloured soaps in the bathroom. It wasn't me.
As most of us were knitting holiday gifts, gift-giving, gift-receiving and proper gift appreciation were hot topics of conversation. And at some point, Clmi asked us to recollect the first gifts we'd ever made or given our parents for the holidays.
I honestly don't remember the first gifts my childish hands made for my parents - I did make a lot of tree ornaments in kindergarten involving pasta and it's possible I tried to pass those off as gifts. Parents are such suckers when you're five. HA! But the question reminded me of the first time my younger brother Jaro actually bought a gift for my mom.
My mom, as I recall, had been complaining about her hairbrush and its general inadequacy. And my brother hit on the brilliant idea of buying her a new one for Christmas.
Jaro was, like, six, so it WAS quite a brilliant idea. We tried out every brush in the Shopper's Drug Mart until we found the perfect one (i.e. the one that fit our $3 budget). Jaro bought the brush and could not WAIT to give it to my mom.
Once in possession of the brush, however, Jaro became VERY concerned that, because she did have immediate need of a brush, my mom would just go buy her own and his gift would lose its impact. To guard against this eventuality, he came up with a cunning and pro-active plan. He sat my mom down and cautioned her thus:
"I'm not going to TELL you what I got you for Christmas," he said, his eyes huge behind his thick glasses, "but DON'T BUY A BRUSH."
I seriously don't know how my mother managed to keep a straight face. I mean, not only is that hilarious, but my brother at the time was adorable, cross-eyed, wore huge coke-bottle glasses and couldn't say his "R's". That's good parenting right there, people. She assured him that she wouldn't and Jaro bounced off, satisfied that he had kept his secret.
Obviously, this has become a running joke in my family. "I'm not going to TELL you what I got you for Christmas, but DON'T BUY A BRUSH" is a holiday tradition, right up there with our illegal Solstice bonfire and my mother's not-so-secret Re-gifting Closet.
It's been many a year since the pasta tree ornaments, but I still occasionally attempt handmade gifts and my parents still respond with the same delight to things like my lopsided, amateurish knitting as they did to the ashtrays I made out of clay. Maybe because, while they're thrilled that my brother and I have grown into (mostly) functional adults, it's fun to remember a time when gifts were simple but from the heart and a $3 brush was the COOLEST GIFT EVER.
Anyway - if you are so inclined, I invite you to recollect the first gift you made or gave to your parents (or siblings or grandparents or whatever your definition of family may be). And then I invite you to bake me some more of that kickin' apple cake.
