“Advice is cheap, Ms. Molloy. It’s the things that come gift wrapped that count!”
Handmade be damned! I buy holiday presents for people. Reason the first: I am not in the least bit crafty, I prefer forming words to paper mache. Reason the second: I like shopping way too much.
Of course, the holidays get more and more expensive every year as a result, to say nothing of it being harder to come up with ideas. My father, J. and Venice have birthdays this month, mere days apart. In December, Fairy, Elle, and Buddy have birthdays all orbiting Christmas. In addition to family and god-family this year, I now have in-laws to buy presents for! Remember the panic I endured last year when I was only J.’s girlfriend? Multiply that times siblings, nieces, nephews, and pets. Gah!
Last year for J.’s birthday I got him tickets to an NBA game for his favorite team, in the lower half of the stadium. Ergo, I was Girlfriend of the Year. In retrospect, I completely shot myself in the foot because there is nowhere to go but down from there. And even my Christmas presents last year were pretty good!
How am I supposed to keep doing this for the next fifty to sixty years?!