I can’t believe I did what I did, but I did.
It started early one morning with Good Morning America and Deals & Steals. The television exuded an unnatural radiant light as I saw the perfect Christmas gift for my multitude of ‘great’ nephews. I ran for my sunglasses and my laptop.
You have to understand that this brood of boys can be difficult to shop for because I no longer know what the ‘hot’ toy choices are for little boys. My own little boys are in their twenties.
But, now, now not to worry. Tory Johnson was my savior. She guided me with her strange light to a great deal on guaranteed indestructible toy helicopters at half price. This had to be the gift that could please any little boy aged six to sixteen. Six gifts, six difficult gifts, off my long Christmas list and I was still in my pajamas. Bless you, Tory.
I quickly ordered six of the amazing helicopters in three different colors. And as I typed, I visualized myself as the favorite aunt when they opened their brightly colored packages and found their flying wonder-birds. (Don’t ruin my fantasy with your thoughts of Play Station games and other new-fangled technology. The use of ‘new-fangled’ alone says a lot, right?)
Ms. Johnson saved me from searching hundreds of catalogues that fill my mailbox each year. Page after page turned, yet I can never find that special something for the boys. She saved me trips to massive retail stores where I wander aimlessly with other baffled great aunts. We search down aisle after aisle of toys, unable to commit to any of the multitude of choices. I’ve done this year after year and finally I settle for an educational toy that rarely brings a twinkle to the eyes of my nephews.
But this year, I thought, I got this. Those other stressed-out great aunts will do that dance without me. This year, I thought, I have the perfect gift – the shiny not-to-be-destroyed whirly bird.
But then–I cringe as I recall–my son informed me that, yes, the helicopters were a great gift. He knew because I gave helicopters to the great nephews last year.
This can’t be. Could it? Could I have forgotten?
Yes, I always forget my Google password and I forget to purchase the one thing I came to the store for as I push out a loaded basket. And who doesn’t forget where their keys are or their sunglasses?
But, a Christmas gift? Surely not.
Surely yes, and maybe I wasn’t that surprised. Mostly I was just disappointed.
Dang it again.
There will be great joy in taking the six shiny, multi-colored, indestructible helicopters to a needy charity.
There will not be great joy in adding six gifts back to my ‘almost’ unmanageable shopping list as we zoom into December.
Oh Betty, I could use your help. You were always my favorite ‘Golden Girl’