Experience gifts
Hyrum and I enjoyed a pretzel and chocolate shake at Lucy’s pretzel shop before heading to “Sing 2”.
Anyone who has read this column for a while knows that I am bad at giving gifts (i.e., giving sweatbands for anniversaries, windshield squeegees for Valentine’s Day, an so on). But I do truly enjoy giving “experience gifts”, like tickets to a play, or a promise to go get ice cream and see a movie.
My kids know this and are therefore good sports with the tradition I’ve started of requesting that their Christmas gifts to me be a one-on-one outing with each of them (that they plan and I pay for) where we do something that I (and hopefully they) will enjoy.
George, my thoughtful 16-year-old, took note a couple weeks before Christmas when I mentioned a particular restaurant I wanted to try. His gift to me was to go to that restaurant and then head home to watch a movie together. He made good on the restaurant part—we enjoyed a delicious Thai meal while he gamely endured my “mom chatter,” which consisted of questions like, “So, tell me something that has been difficult for you lately,” “What are your hopes and dreams?” and “When are you going to ask a girl on a date?”
The movie portion of our date was pre-empted by a basketball game in which he was supposed to play, so I dropped him off at the venue straight from the restaurant and I went home alone. Not the first time that has happened, I’ll tell you what!
Fourteen-year-old Jane made the mistake of offering to go with me “anywhere I want.” So, after enjoying a lunch together, she had the dubious pleasure of accompanying me to Costco, the warehouse wonderland of parents everywhere. I could see her actively trying to put a smile on her face as she tamped down her agony, knowing that she was fulfilling her gift to me and there would be no eye rolling allowed. She even happily helped me unload everything from the car afterward, which is a bonus gift that I didn’t see coming.
Seven-year-old Hyrum wanted to get a soft pretzel from the shop where his big sister Lucy works and then head to a movie “of my choice,” which of course meant “of his choice.” We ate our weight in pretzels before heading to the animated movie “Sing 2,” which was surprisingly delightful and entertaining; I didn’t fall asleep once.
Emmett, my just-about-ten-year-old, gifted me almost exactly the same thing as Hyrum, simply writing on his card to me: “Movie party! Whatever you want! Get candy!” After hearing from Hyrum that “Sing 2” was pretty funny, Emmett decided that was the movie he’d like to see as well, which is how I found myself exactly one week later in the very same theater, watching the very same movie, only with candy instead of pretzels.
I’ve yet to cash in on my last two gifts, but will be doing so soon. Henry offered to watch a movie with me, again “of my choice.” At 12 years old, Henry is more likely to be able to tolerate a movie that I would actually pick; I’m thinking the 5-hour BBC version of “Pride & Prejudice” will fit the bill, and you can probably now hear Henry screaming from all the way across town.
Eighteen-year-old Lucy proposed that we go out to lunch at one of our favorite Chinese restaurants and then shop at various vintage stores around town. Although normally this outing would be my dream come true, I’m currently “eating healthy” so I can “drop the five pounds I gained over the holidays that are making my pants feel less like clothing and more like sausage casings”. We’re going to hold off for a while and hit the Chinese restaurant in a few weeks when I’m off starvation rations and back up to my normal eating levels.
I’d say my kids nailed it with their gifts to me this year. Being with them one-on-one is a treat that I don’t get very often, and it’s something that I want to make happen more frequently in the future—although George and Jane (the recipients of the “mom chatter” and Costco dates) might beg to differ.