Gifts that cut the mustard

I was reading a ridiculous alphabet book called P is for Pterodactyl to my grandkids yesterday and I kept feeling grateful for how well my daughter knows me.

She gave me the book for my birthday, a perfect treat for a word-lover. The letter P is illustrated by a pterodactl named Ptolemy who suffers from psoriasis, while K stands for Knight and B for Bdellium (which I did not know how to pronounce until I checked the glossary). If you want to have a long, delightful conversation with a child trying to understand the concept of silent letters, this is the book for you!

It's certainly the book for me--in fact, I almost bought this book for the grandkids the first time it popped up in my Facebook feed. Now I can read it to them every time they visit, which will give me even more opportunities to answer questions like "What's psoriasis?" and offer gratuitous lessons in Old English pronunciation every time we encounter "knight."

When it comes to gifts, my daughter knows what I like. I'd mentioned that I need some writing paper--for, like, writing actual physical letters to put in the mail with stamps (yes, some of us still like to communicate the old-fashioned way)--and all I said was I'd prefer something pretty but not too frilly or girly, and do you know what she gave me? Sturdy little note cards hand-decorated with birds, butterflies, and flowers. She even left a few uncolored so I can color them myself. Just lovely. Now I'm eager for all the gift-giving to be done so I can start writing thank-you notes on my new note cards.

Everyone should have someone in their lives who know how to pick the perfect gift. This kind of talent comes at a cost, though: the perfect gift-picker is unlikely to receive equal perfection from others. I'm an intrepid but frustrated gift-seeker right now; a week from Christmas, I'm still struggling to find something for a few family members, all men and none terribly picky. I could literally give them each a jar of mustard and they'd be content, but I would feel as if I've failed in some skill essential to  family cohesion. So today I'll go out and join the throngs at the mall, hoping to stumble upon something that screams out "Pick Me!" If not, I know where to find the mustard.

Just a few of the decorated note cards my daughter made.