Saturday, December 7, 2019

Toilet Paper...and other uncommon gifts

"A Snowy Buttercup Cottage Christmas, Jan. 4, 2017" photo by KLWood

It's gift-giving (and receiving) season, once again. We have an old friend who often surprises us with his unique choice of gifts. Among, many: a toy, zebra-striped bedroom slippers, and a particularly memorable one, a roll of toilet paper.

"Yo-Kai Whisper" photo by KLWood
The toy was a strange, little, plastic creature. It looked a bit like a ghost (as in one of Casper the Friendly Ghost's cohorts,) with one white "arm" held up at its side. Turning questioning eyes to the gift-giver, I cocked my quizzical head and raised my eyebrows.

"Go, ahead," he said, grinning. "Pull his arm down." Feeling like I was pulling down the handle of one of those "one-armed bandit" gambling slot machines, I did as instructed. I was rewarded with a silly, blubbery response and a voice telling me to ask a question and shake him. A bit, dubiously, I asked if it was going to rain and shook the creature. "It shall be, because Whisper agrees." Ha! It was a kind of "Magic 8 Ball" toy. 

It had a number of settings, including "Words of Wisdom" and would even suggest a lottery number for the day. Sitting idle for a few moments, it spluttered out a "raspberry" at me. Turns out, certainly unbeknownst by the gift-giver, it was a Japanese anime character—one of the Yo-Kai, named "Whisper." Our granddaughters knew exactly what/who it was and decided our friend was cooler than they had formerly thought. It was perfect, the next Halloween, when I dressed up as a mysterious witchy kind of woman and carried it around as my "spirit guide," answering the questions put to it by friends and, in the cafe, complete strangers, who giggled again, like children. The joyful gift of silly laughter.
"Zebra Slippers" photo by KLWood

One Christmas, he gave my husband and me each a pair of slippers. Mine were, for me, an uncharacteristically vibrant pair of black and white zebra-striped ones. Not my usual earth-toned, blend-in-with-the-background L. L. Bean types. Hmmmm. But, let me tell you. Those slippers kind of glow in the dark and, without any backs to them, they are perfect for locating and slipping into at my bedside for those cold, winter, middle-of-the-night-dark, foot-paddings to the bathroom! Thank you, my friend, for the kindly gift of comfort.

That brings us to the gift of toilet paper. Eyes twinkling, like Santa pulling a treasure from his toy sack, he pulled a roll out of his bag, and presented it to me. "Here! I thought it might come in handy with all your extra holiday visitors visiting the bathroom." Once I lowered my eyebrows to a more typical position, I nodded and thanked him, very much. And you know, he was right. That roll of toilet paper absolutely came in handy. The thoughtful gift of practicality.

"The Gift of Toilet Paper" photo by KLWood
There's one more thing about our friend's gift-giving. He doesn't limit it to Christmas or other special occasions. He shows up at our door bearing gifts for no particular reason other than to share and express his gratitude for our friendship. The delightful gift of the unexpected.

So, here's to you all, this gifting time of year. Maybe think outside the box (unless it's a box of tissues, perhaps!) May you give and receive gifts joyful, kindly, thoughtful, and unexpected.

Thanks for stopping by. Y'all come back, now!
And Merry Christmas!

Kate

2 comments:

William Francis Ahearn said...

Our friend, who is retired and necessarily careful with his money has an irresistible urge to give thoughtful gifts whenever he finds one. He shows up at our door with a smirk and a stuffed canvas shopping bag full of doodads he has found as he made his rounds of Habitat (called Restore, here) or a couple of consignment shops, or our only supermarket or perhaps even a yard sale or two. He is kind, and thoughtful in the sense that he scripts a story about why he thought I needed or would like whatever he has challenged me or Kate with. He is a real friend, a prince of knowledge and opinion that often strikes home with us for we are inclined politically as he is. Thanks, Douglas.



Anonymous said...

Merci, mes amis!