PART 2 - Shopping on the Bed
(In case you missed Part 1, it is here)

Another big difference between Marty's experience and mine was where the gifts that lined the tree came from.

For me, part of what made Christmas morning so exciting was the complete mystery of it all. While you knew you were looking at some administrative items (e.g. school clothes) and a few foul balls (e.g. framed picture of you with your grandparents) the rest was a cornucopia of delicious unknowns. The anticipation before each unvieling caused a hard-to-match emotional tumult. The closest a child gets to this level of juvenile decadance is Halloween but that is just candy. This is with toys. Flashing, colorful, beeping, shooting, tantalizing-in-every way toys.

At Marty's house, things, again, operated a little differently. The best illustration of this is how my mother-in-law handles her gifts. She has no interest in a Troy-style crap-shoot. Instead, she does something called "shopping on the bed". How shopping on the bed works is this. Once the holiday season is underway, Marty (and all of her siblings) will visit their mother. They will say, "Hey mom, I need to go shopping on the bed." To this, Mama-Nat will ask that they give her a minute and climbs the stairs to her room. After a short bit, she will call down for them to join her.

On her bed will be an array of items set out in a game-show-like presentation (I got to witness this once). On display might be a new pocketbook or boxed scarf, or kitchen doodad. These would be the items still available. The child will survey their choices, maybe picking up a thing or two to inspect it more closely. After a bit of thought, they will make their selection. Once chosen, Mama-Nat will leaf through a ready envelope of receipts, removing a single slip. In a tone similar to the one the clerk would have used when the item was initially purchased, Mama-Nat will announce the item's cost, to the cent. This is what you owe for this gift. And let's say the handbag was $19.87. If you hand Mama-Nat a twenty, you will have to wait for her to fish a dime and two pennies from her coin purse before you may leave. Come Christmas morning, that gift will make its way beneath the tree, tidily wrapped and with the appropriate names in place. And when it is opened, all requisite surprise and gratitude will be shown.

The first time I heard about shopping on the bed, I was agog. I'm sure my first thought was to ask what was the point? To which any of Nat's off-spring would have blankly said, "And what's the point of getting things you don't want?" Now let's be clear. Many people believe I am a person that can strip the joy from just about anything given how regimented and scheduled my life is. When it comes to my time, I want zero surprises or unexpected events. As for the spontaneity of life, that too is on the schedule. But this seems to be my one exception area. How can there be any excitement in receiving or satisfaction in giving a pre-purchased gift? And, worse of all, no carbonated muscles on Christmas eve!

This is one disparity from our past Marty and I have never fully come to an agreement on. Our middle-ground is that I can pick out her gifts, but each and every one should come with a tapaed-receipt to its front. I have submitted to this but will admit that it feels less like a gift-exchange and more like a Target transaction, just without the red name badge.

But while we were limping along in our modified system, I saw something that recently broke the truce. Last Christmas, when it came time for our children (aged 18, 16, and 13 at the time) to exchange gifts, they all stood up and walked from one to the next. When facing a sibling, they would hand them a twenty-dollar bill. The other child would, in turn, give them a twenty dollar bill (at the least, it wasn't the same twenty). During this "exchange," They expressed exaggerated surprise and gratitude for this thoughtful sentiment. To my astonished eyes, this exercise made Shopping on the Bed look like something straight from It's a Wonderful Life.

Jump forward ten months to a conversation at our dinner table about the coming holidays. After some routine discussion about dates and events, I added, "Oh, and this year there will be no money exchanges for gifts. Each of you will buy each of your siblings a proper gift." They all looked at me for a few beats digesting the words. They then, in unison, looked to their mother. Her gaze was still on me as she was taking in my surprise announcement too. After a few moments, while still looking at me, she said, "Yes, you all should plan on getting each other gifts this year."

I was pleased with myself that I wouldn't have to witness that totally antiseptic dance between my children again. And I will confess to being intrigued to see what the kids would get each other. But this was dashed days later when Bella sent an email to the family pointing to a Google doc. In it she said, these are the things I want for christmas, please add to the list things you would like.

If you, like me, are wondering if a shared google doc is better or worse than Shopping on the Bed, I have concluded the latter is actually better. Reason being, when you shop the bed, at least you spend a few minutes with the person you are shopping for. It was bad enough when I was losing these battles to just my wife. Now that I am also being routinely out-maneuvered by my children, my win ratio (and personal esteem) is scraping an all-time low.

NEXT Part 3 - what makes the perfect gift?