Friday 28 October 2011

Present buying disasters

Unfortunately my friends and family long suffered at the hands of my present buying.  It’s not that I don’t try; it’s just sometimes my idea of a great present is a little different to most peoples. In the run up to Christmas I feel it my duty to share with everyone the following sharky incidents.

1) The dilemma of what you get your dad. They are always the trickiest to buy for.  One year I was in a quirky shop when I saw this beautiful orange sequin chicken.  I got the idea into my head that I should buy this for my dad because he once worked for a chicken magazine. I thought I was onto a winner.  Finally! Something that wasn’t liquorish allsorts or socks.   So I buy it and take it home.  I was so proud of myself.  I had a little spring in my step.  I get home, show my housemates, only to be informed that the chicken was in fact a pin cushion, for a female sewer and definitely not suitable for my dad, or any dad, or any male, or to be honest, anyone.  

Result: The chicken lives in my spare room and my dad got socks.

2) I’m sure you can all relate to that awful moment when you’re on your way to a birthday party and you realise forgot to buy a card and present.  So what do you do? You stop at a service station and buy the what ever you can find that looks like you haven’t just bought it from a service station.

Result: You turn up with a tatty card and a car sponge.
                                                                                 
3) Weddings.  Now you would think that this should be easy, you simply pick off a list.  But what if you’ve left it to the last minute and all the presents from the John Lewis list you can afford have been snapped up by those annoyingly organised people.  This happened to me, and there was this inner panic.  What should have been an easy task had suddenly been turned upside down. 

Result: You go to Lush and Lakeland…nothing says ‘congratulations on your wedding’ more than a plastic cow shaped bowl and spoon set and a travel shampoo after all.

4) My brother.  Now the problem here was not that he is difficult to buy for, but more my interpretation of a good present.  One year I was so chuffed with myself I’d gone shopping one afternoon and brought what I thought was a fun and somewhat educational present for my brother in the form of a ‘Mr Wonderful’ doll.  This was no ordinary doll he would speak saying all the things you wish men would say.  I thought great I give it to my brother so he knows how to be a good boyfriend.  I get home.  Show my friends and they delight in informing me that it is actually a present for a girl to give her the perfect man.

Result: Mr wonderful sits on my shelf accompanied by a Mrs wonderful key ring.  My brother got chocolate and a game.