Tuesday, December 15, 2009

giving: it really is a gift

inspired by karls, i am going to tell you all a little christmas tale. a tale of love. a tale of generosity. a tale of what-the-fuck-kind-of-christmas-present-is-this?

disclaimer: i love, respect and very much miss my late grandparents.

moving on.

when i was young, and my sisters were younger, we were the envy of our friends come december. they would come over to play but instead be transfixed by the mountain of presents sitting under our tree.

i couldn't blame them. it was spectacular. the pile was as high as it was wide and it was pretty wide. so many presents.

but while our friends stood in awe, we remained apathetic for we knew what was in store for us come christmas day.

most of the presents were all from our grandparents. our loving, generous grandparents. no, i am serious. but if there was ever a case of quantity, not quality, this is it.

i once got, among other things (many other things), a top which still had the price tag on it. it had been reduced from $49.99 to $39.99. from $39.99 to $29.99. from $29.99 to $19.99. and lastly, from $19.99 to $9.99. talk about your bargain hunters.

but middle sister was the lucky recipient of the most memorable gift. or gifts. again among many other things, she had the thrill of unwrapping...wait for it...waaaaait for it...a packet of 1000 cotton buds.

yes. cotton buds.
even better: for her birthday the next year - which is in JANUARY - she was delighted to score five packets of 100 cotton buds. they were individually wrapped too which just added to the fun.

i can't say i remember her having particularly waxy ears. or a baby with lots of snot. and what the hell else to you do with cotton buds?

oh, now i see.

to be honest, at the time it annoyed us. we were young and we were brats. but as we got older, it got funnier and now i am glad i have such a memory. the bottom line: they cared enough to think of us every single time they spotted a mean deal. it's sweet. and it scored me heaps of electrical tape over the years.

8 comments:

Karls said...

Haha! Our stocking from Nan were filled with crap... with one good toy at the bottom. There was about 20 cousins and we'd all be throwing the top presents out of the pillowcase to get to the one good thing. We couldn't give a shit about the $2 shop crap above the gold.

Oh and you can NEVER have enough cotton buds! Wise old souls!

KatherineAnne said...

Ha ha ha. Oh my goodness! At least the gifts were useful? :) I hope you have a lovely Tuesday!

Stopping by from SITS.

xo, KA

...Mrs.P! said...

That's so funny! But as KatherineAnne says at least its useful stuff.
My Grandma ran the Lutheran Welfare Centre in the 80's and early 90's and every year at Christmas we got a shopping bag filled with crap. And when I say crap, I mean it was the stuff that even the welfare centre couldn't give away, nearly eveything we got was broken, falling apart, missing bits or just plain weird! Having said that though, they did also give us all $10 in a card, which, when you have 18 grandkids ends up being a lot of money. It was this 'shopping bag of crap' that taught me the real meaning of giving...that it's the thought that counts. We may not have liked a lot of the stuff she gave us but Grandma always tried to choose stuff she thought we would like and as you say, thats what matters most.

Amanda said...

that's so great - you have to love grandparents...
thanks for stopping by my blog!

Rick M said...

Ah ha ha, that story just made me laugh like a drain. I've never seen a drain laugh, but I'm assuming they bellow.

My Grandma always refused to accept the sanctioned spelling of my first name (as amateur detectives could find out by reading my birth certificate). Every year I would get a set of colouring pencils with my name embossed: Rickie Morton.

And every year my mother would explain that it is 'Ricky'.

gentleer: the precursor to your response of 'don't you mean MORE gentle'?

MIke said...

THE FOLLOWING IS NO LIE.

When I turned 16, my aunt gave me a G-string. Black and dark blue.

Please note, unlike the rest of you, I have a penis which means a G-string is a bloody weird present.

...kate said...

especially if you wear it backwards.

emlykd said...

I have stumbled upon this blog just now.. My grandfather to the day he died could not spell my name.. it's not that hard! Emily... he would always write Emely, and then he would polish no more than $7 in gold coins and stick them to the inside of the card.. Oh, thanx Kate for reminding me of the lovely man I called grandfather! (Actually called him Opa, my family are from dutch people!)

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