I've just finished wrapping all the family Christmas gifts and stowing them safely under the warm lights of the tree. Ahh. Well, these were my thoughts as I surveyed the oh-so-normal looking packages, knowing the contents of each: If a Christmas thief were to invade my house some day between now and the twenty fifth of this month, he would probably shake his head in frustration as he tried to find anything worth pawning.
Don't look at me. I decided to buy what they wanted this year, so I visited their wish lists and chose something they had requested beforehand. Can I help it if they like strange things? Not really. I'm pretty normal myself. . . So when Elisha requests a tour book of Italy and an ethnodoxology textbook; Claye wants obscure books by Charles Dickens and a Celtic Thunder CD; Carina lists herbal teas and teeny, tiny mixing bowls that look like doll dishes; Art wants a flash light with twisty, magnetic legs, and Turtle fills his wish list with survival gear--since nobody has told him we live in pretty comfortable suburbia--I'm left with no normal gift choices, except for Marie, who doesn't even have a "wish list" and says she's happy with anything. (I'm guessing she'll have one by next year.)
Well, if I told you what I bought them, that would be spoiling the surprise, right? so I'll just use my grandkids as an example. There's little likelihood they will come investigating this blog to see what this grandma bought from their wish lists.
Six-year-old Zaya loves all things Biology and is particularly fascinated with deep sea creatures and germs. His thinkgeek list is swarming with stuffed animals--not the cartoon inspired ones, nor yet the all-little-boy favorite, dinosaurs; no, he collects stuffed microbes, knows them all by name and can't wait to add another one to his shelf. Here are several from his list. (I had to take a picture before I wrapped them together.)
Rabies is the red one with blood-shot eyes, Malaria is wearing a little green jacket around its middle, Gangrene is flat black velvet with a lime-green edge, and MRSA wears a superhero cape. As you can see, they are mighty cute little assassins. However, I'm not altogether certain that I like the idea of my grandson cuddling with them.
So when you open that sweater from your daughter, that chocolate from Aunt Sue, just be grateful you aren't getting a gift from me this year...cause you might just get the thing you requested and it would probably be weird.