Mixed gifting signals
Proof that the years are rolling by, #426: Son #1 explained that he’d be reducing his time on a longboard, because he no longer recovers as quickly as he once did.
This is Christmas, in our family. Even if the calendar says there’s another twenty-four hours before, that’s not how we roll. A tradition that dates back to a time beyond memory, which sees the exchange of gifts and a meal of odd pieces from the oven scheduled before midnight. And since getting everyone together is more and more difficult, the open slot in all our our calendars meant that we gathered in spite of the rain and slippy parking lots. Just take your time (the dog didn’t, and managed to prove that four paw drive is no better than my two heel version).
Over the last few rounds, we’ve adopted a cutting edge version of “Secret Santa”, with an email service that lets all involved (five of us) know who our target for gifting will be. And for a second year, the algorithm glitched. I managed to show up with a gift that had been carefully duplicated by someone else, for the same person. The immediate assumption is that I am functionally illiterate, but this time around I had the email I’d received as prima facie evidence. My conviction in family court was overturned due to a technicality. I wonder if I have to declare such things, if ever I cross the border.
After deciding to fold to a terrorist threat (by cancelling the release of a new film), the studio reconsidered the situation. All interested now have copies of their own.
