All I want for Christmas is another Ove Glove
One week until Christmas and there isn’t one present under our
tree. It’s not that we lack the holiday spirit this year, because
the outside of our house is festooned with lights and the inside
has the requisite Santa figurines, nutcrackers and candles.
There’s just something different about this year. It could be
the economy or the weather or general laziness. Maybe I’m waiting
for my December paycheck or the semester to end. I don’t know.
All I want for Christmas is another Ove Glove
One week until Christmas and there isn’t one present under our tree. It’s not that we lack the holiday spirit this year, because the outside of our house is festooned with lights and the inside has the requisite Santa figurines, nutcrackers and candles.
There’s just something different about this year. It could be the economy or the weather or general laziness. Maybe I’m waiting for my December paycheck or the semester to end. I don’t know.
In addition to not having bought presents as of this writing, I haven’t asked for anything. As a generally low-maintenance guy who keeps clothes until they tear or develop holes, I have a tough time figuring out what I really want.
I could use new clothes, but I prefer to purchase them myself. Other people’s views of what looks good on us doesn’t always match how we feel. I refuse to buy my wife clothes as gifts because while it’s easy for me to tell what looks good on her, I can’t translate that from the rack in a store into a present. I just know I’m going to mess up and she’s going to return it anyway.
My mom keeps asking me what I want for Christmas, after she proudly announces that she is already done shopping for her grandchildren.
I tell her that I truly don’t know what I want for Christmas, but when pressed recently I threw out the statement: “How about $13,000?”
The number just popped into my head and I thought I’d let my mom know in case she was in a particularly giving mood this year – and if she wins the lottery between now and next Friday.
Her look of mock indignation told the story as she responded, “Try again.”
So, using my best negotiating skills, I offered, “Well, how about $12,000?”
She harrumphed at that one, too, so I told her that I really don’t know what I want and that I’ll leave it up to her to decide. I mean, if I have to settle for $8,000 I will. I’m not greedy.
As I’ve gotten older, my desire for particular presents has decreased. When I was a kid, I had a specific list of toys that I really, really wanted. I was asked for a list; I provided it; and I hoped for the best.
Now I usually say, “How about a gift certificate?” That way, the giver will know that the gift will be put to use, unlike that mock turtleneck sweater that grandma doesn’t realize went out of style in 1989.
When I say grandma, I mean that in the generic sense, as my own grandma will no doubt bring me a special box of treats that were made with love and care.
She bakes cookies and bread and brings canned or dried fruit when she comes to town for Christmas. It’s a homemade touch that makes the holidays special – and doesn’t include a gift receipt. There’s no returning her apple cake or dried pears.
Last year, she bought me an Ove Glove, the five-fingered oven mitt that used to be advertised on TV. This year during Thanksgiving, when she asked what I wanted for Christmas, I suggested a second Ove Glove, as it would complete the set and allow me not to burn one of my un-Ove Gloved hand when taking her apricot cobbler out of the oven. I at first thought it odd that she bought me only one Ove Glove last year, but her plan was brilliant: she created a built-in, follow-up gift for the next year.
So with one week to go, I’ll be hitting the stores with all the other procrastinators over the next few days, doing my best to spread love and joy through commercialism. If I do happen to get that $13,000, I will be happy and I will high-five my mom with the new Ove Glove that I hope to get from grandma.
If those wishes don’t come true, I know I’ll still get the best gift possible: another year watching my children open gifts next to the tree as we enjoy our traditional family breakfast near a crackling fire. Thumbs up from the Ove Glove on that one.
Want more Breen Damage? Check out Adam’s blog at http://thebreenblog.blogspot.com. Adam teaches newspaper and yearbook classes at San Benito High School and is a reporter for The Pinnacle. He is former editor of the Free Lance.
