Lesson #34

Lesson #34 - Gag gifts are the best.

First let me start with the disclaimer that I don't want this post to be misinterpreted. I love real presents, but boy, is it fun to laugh.

This trait for finding the humor in gag gifts runs strong and deep in my family tree. A prime example of this was for my father's birthday a few weeks ago. Unbenownest to me, my mother and I were plotting for the very same purpose. Her gift to him? A helmet and Speed Racer t-shirt poking fun at his obsession, er, enjoyment of the Wii. Our present? A Wii survival pack...picked out by the boys and I on a shopping trip. There were Wasabi Cashews for energy (because, as the boys said, "Poppop, likes his nuts hot."), a box of tissues to wipe his tears when Mommom beat him, a personal fan to cool himself down, a water bottle cooler to keep his beverages cold, and band aids for his blisters.

Then there was the Christmas that my oldest niece (my brother's daughter) gave us all fake lottery tickets. Yeah. Funny kid. Let's just say, we were a bit upset...impressed with her sick sense of humor, but disappointed nonetheless. I'm still trying to figure out how to get her back.

Then there was the Christmas my kids got my brother bright orange underwear. Slightly disturbing, but they howl with laughter every time they think about it. Sick kids.

So, to both of my parents, who so firmly implanted this genetic need to give wacky gifts, thanks. Because truly, those are the ones we still laugh about and bring up time and time again.

I love you both!

Lesson #2

Lesson #2: "Stop laughing!"

This one dates back to when I was, oh, maybe 12. We were sitting in a Mexican restaurant on vacation/work in California and I was just...happy. For no reason other than being together, having a good time, etc., etc. So, I started to laugh. Giggle really. In a 12 year old girl sort of way. Slightly annoying I know now, but it was a giggle of just pure happiness.

"Stop laughing! Nothing's funny! Just stop laughing!"

Aw, Dad. You got so upset and I just couldn't help myself. The angrier you got the funnier I thought it was that you were mad that I was laughing. So, I just couldn't stop. Even thinking about it now makes me snort trying to hold back laughter.

Boy, did my dad get mad. And STAY mad! The entire flight home from California to Pennsylvania was made in stony silence the next day. Even that was funny, but heaven knows I didn't want to start laughing again.

Okay, so what's the lesson? The lesson is that it's the little things that make the memories that last. It's those moments that you don't plan, can't plan, and probably wouldn't want to plan that shape the fabric of a family. And it's a good memory. It's a funny one and it's one that reminds me that it's those little moments that matter. Thanks for that, Dad.

I love you.