I like giving presents that are meaningful and not just for the sake of looking good. This is one of the reasons I’m just not a fan of Christmas, which has become this exercise in showmanship. But when giving gifts are tinged with a bit of, say, revenge, that’s when things get fun and funny.
Happy Mother’s Day…for me too
My mother was a special woman in many ways. She was a good mom, the love of my dad’s life, a nurse, an administrator, ambitious, but she also had her quirks, for which I bore the brunt.
In addition to being right a good chunk of the time, she wasn’t shy about saying “I told you so” or “I knew that would happen.” And when I say ‘not shy,’ I mean she danced.
So one mother’s day, I decided I was going to have my fun.
I bought her three presents and made it a scavenger hunt. She’d get clues, which I created and she’d have to find all three presents, which were part of a bath and body sets that she loved. She played along because she liked getting presents.
I watched her run around trying to figure out each present. I didn’t make them hard because, in all honesty, I wanted her to find them and there’s no fun in making it impossible. That’s dispiriting and mean. She found one, then was trying to get to the next one.
It took her some time to find them all and afterwards, I got one of those lung squeezing hugs.
So, you may be wondering, well how does revenge come into this? This seems cheeky and sweet.
It was that but here’s what happened:
Yes, she got her presents, but in watching her run around like a maniac, skin slick from all the activity, brows knitted as she tried to figure the clues out, scratching her head, she had a couple of moments when she asked me for additional clues.
There I was, sitting at the table, eating something and just watching her streak back and forth, desperate for additional help. She stood before me breathless, paper clue in hand, asking me what that meant.
That’s when I remembered all those times as a kid I asked for something simple, and she promised it but didn’t deliver and pretended like I shouldn’t have expected it to happen. I remembered all those times when I wanted to be with friends who I liked to hang out with, who were trustworthy because we were all AP/IB nerds making A’s and B’s and she decided against it at the last minute because…no reason. And that little pink “Ladies tool box” she gave me, with pink EVERYTHING when I hate pink don’t have the hands of a small child.
All those times flashed before me as she asked me for additional clues. I smirked and told her ‘Figure it out yourself.’
She appeared to get it. I wasn’t going to help her no matter how much she begged because my fun was in watching her beg. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. I think she realized how much she missed her chance to smother me as a child.
Too bad, so sad.
You may be asking, Where was your father during all this?
My father isn’t a stupid man. He knew how to mind his business in that throw-up-his-hands-in-mock-defense-because-he-knew-nothing-about-anything sorta way. Looking back, my dad kinda enjoyed watching her run around too. But he wouldn’t admit it because, seriously, the man has to sleep eventually, you know?
She got her presents. I got my chuckles. It was a win-win for everyone that day.
…and, no, I don’t have kids so THERE!