“Do unto others…”
If I gave to you what I would like to receive, you’d be getting an NES Classic Edition for christmas this year.
Obviously, that’s not going to work. First of all – they’re sold out everywhere, and second, what if you don’t love it? What if you don’t dream of playing Legend of Zelda the way I do? What if you’re not obsessed with the idea that maybe, now you are so much older, you can actually finish Super Mario Bros. for real, instead of lying about it for all these years… decades?
The rule should be, do unto others as they’d like to have done to them. I guess it doesn’t sound as nice that way, but this is why we write wish lists.
Many years ago – I was asked, by someone who will remain nameless, what I wanted for christmas. I said I wanted an electric kettle – but I specifically wanted the one that has the base that the kettle sits on, not the one where the kettle itself has the cord that plugs into the wall. I should have known better than to ask her for something so specific. I knew what she was like – always looking for the ‘deal.’ She bought for me what she would have bought for herself – the cheap, “20% off” one – with the cord attached to the kettle! I was gracious – I hid my disappointment. I simply smiled when she bragged about how much money she’d saved.
I googled, “I am bad at buying gifts” and I found an article about a study published a few years ago that said: we should all stop trying to find the perfect gift – we should just buy exactly what people ask for – that way, the recipient is happy. But of course – the giver gets nothing out of the exchange – you’ve turned them into your personal shopper. There’s no thought, or love, or proof that I know you so well in just buying you what you asked for. Why can’t I buy you something sweet and sentimental and utterly useless? It’s the thought that counts. Right?
But that phrase – ‘it’s the thought that counts.’ is just an excuse for bad gift-giving, really. And we say it because we’re all just afraid to admit that what we really want is the money and the excuse to buy something frivolous for ourselves with it.
Sigh. The truth is – what I really want is to see you smile. So, hand over your wish list. I’ll save my sentimentality and my creative spirit for the wrapping paper.