Happy Birthday
Today is grandpa’s birthday. That means it’s time for one of us parents to run around selecting gifts and cards to show grandpa he’s loved and mailing them in time to arrive for the big day, while the other parent continues with life, not knowing that father-in-law’s birthday is approaching and only dimly aware that the other parent seems more frantic than usual. My dad is having the birthday, so it’s my responsibility to run around.
Finding a gift is the easy part. Situations like this are why Al Gore invented the Internet. I simply waited until the children’s screaming quieted to an ignorable level, logged onto the computer, checked a couple sports websites, and shopped for an appropriate gift that says “I love you” without saying “I spent too much on you.” That’s much easier than ignoring my screaming children in the mall. After a few more clicks and a quick check for any late-breaking sports news, grandpa’s present was on its way to his house. I didn’t have to do any wrapping or shipping myself. I did, however, have to explain that when the website says his present will arrive in 4-6 days, he might not receive it until a few days after his birthday.
Finding a card is the difficult part. Under ideal circumstances, it’s tough looking through potentially hundreds of cards to send just the right message: A subtle jab at his age without referencing awkward concepts like beer or babes (or studs). With three children tagging along, finding the right card is nearly impossible.
Being the jaw-droppingly cheap man that I am, I shop at the discount greeting card store. They have cards for as little as $.49. After a few more postage rate increases, the stamp to mail it will cost more than the card. They’re so cheap, I send several cards, hoping that high quantity makes up for the poor quality sentiments conveyed by the cards, which are probably the reason they wound up in the discount greeting card store.
I bought three cards, one from Ellie and I, one from Abbie, and one from the boys. I know I should send a card from each boy to help foster individual identities, but, meh, I’ll worry about that when they’re old enough to choose a card.
Abbie is old enough to choose a card, but she hates the greeting card section. She prefers running around the store, poking at the party supplies they also sell, and looking for candy stocked within her grasp. After much prodding, holding, and screaming, she finally grabbed a semi-appropriate card. It has an anthropomorphized fish on the front to grab her attention, and on the inside read, “Don’t make a fool of yourself this year. Happy birthday.” I think this was in the “humorous birthday” section, though it may have come from the adjacent “surreal birthday” section.
I threw it in the stroller, and checked for a more adult and possibly humorous card. I found one that almost made me smile, added it to the stroller, and wheeled the boys to the “grandpa birthday” section. By this time, Abbie was eyeing bags of $.99 candy covetously, so I grabbed the first boyish, schmaltzy card I found, and rushed to the register before she could tear into something.
I wish I could give my dad something from the kids, but they’re still too young to add much. I try to send a drawing from the kids, but the best I can get is a few doodles from Abbie, and maybe some drool stains from the boys. I had her scribble in her card for a little personalization. Then I added the message “Abbie liked the fish on the cover” to explain why he got it.
Finding a gift is the easy part. Situations like this are why Al Gore invented the Internet. I simply waited until the children’s screaming quieted to an ignorable level, logged onto the computer, checked a couple sports websites, and shopped for an appropriate gift that says “I love you” without saying “I spent too much on you.” That’s much easier than ignoring my screaming children in the mall. After a few more clicks and a quick check for any late-breaking sports news, grandpa’s present was on its way to his house. I didn’t have to do any wrapping or shipping myself. I did, however, have to explain that when the website says his present will arrive in 4-6 days, he might not receive it until a few days after his birthday.
Finding a card is the difficult part. Under ideal circumstances, it’s tough looking through potentially hundreds of cards to send just the right message: A subtle jab at his age without referencing awkward concepts like beer or babes (or studs). With three children tagging along, finding the right card is nearly impossible.
Being the jaw-droppingly cheap man that I am, I shop at the discount greeting card store. They have cards for as little as $.49. After a few more postage rate increases, the stamp to mail it will cost more than the card. They’re so cheap, I send several cards, hoping that high quantity makes up for the poor quality sentiments conveyed by the cards, which are probably the reason they wound up in the discount greeting card store.
I bought three cards, one from Ellie and I, one from Abbie, and one from the boys. I know I should send a card from each boy to help foster individual identities, but, meh, I’ll worry about that when they’re old enough to choose a card.
Abbie is old enough to choose a card, but she hates the greeting card section. She prefers running around the store, poking at the party supplies they also sell, and looking for candy stocked within her grasp. After much prodding, holding, and screaming, she finally grabbed a semi-appropriate card. It has an anthropomorphized fish on the front to grab her attention, and on the inside read, “Don’t make a fool of yourself this year. Happy birthday.” I think this was in the “humorous birthday” section, though it may have come from the adjacent “surreal birthday” section.
I threw it in the stroller, and checked for a more adult and possibly humorous card. I found one that almost made me smile, added it to the stroller, and wheeled the boys to the “grandpa birthday” section. By this time, Abbie was eyeing bags of $.99 candy covetously, so I grabbed the first boyish, schmaltzy card I found, and rushed to the register before she could tear into something.
I wish I could give my dad something from the kids, but they’re still too young to add much. I try to send a drawing from the kids, but the best I can get is a few doodles from Abbie, and maybe some drool stains from the boys. I had her scribble in her card for a little personalization. Then I added the message “Abbie liked the fish on the cover” to explain why he got it.
posted by Matt at
11:32 PM
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