How I helped my daughter sell off the family silver...
The giving of gifts can be laden with a mass of unwritten rules. Take birthdays for example, I never open cards or gifts until the actual day. It’s one of my rules and this tradition must come from nurture rather than nature.
If, however, you were to knock on the door of my house and greet my wife with a birthday gift, it would be opened straight away.
I know that it’s wrong, or at least to me, it seems very wrong.
The reason my wife gives is that the giver gets a reaction and immediate thanks and joy.
You see, it’s not about the right day, it's about the celebration and someone saying you’re important to me.
Absolute nonsense. There are rules for a reason.
Another rule I’ve learned is to use caution when ‘forced’ into ‘regifting’.
This is the rather unpleasant act of receiving a gift and then, after the initial joy and words of thanks, you say to yourself ‘not in my house’ and you find an alternative destination for it.
It’s really very selfish and rarely ever happens.
I do, however, recall a moment more than 100 years ago now…
We were given a wedding gift and according to my memory, although details are a bit fuzzy, it was some cups and saucers.
They were flowery in pattern, the type often seen in Midsomer Murders. All very lovely but we
were never going to utilise their beauty.
Instead, they would be left, abandoned, in a cupboard for the next decade or five.
So we decided to donate them to charity.
To our shock they appeared in the display window of the charity shop a few days later… just as the ‘gifters’ were visiting the same town. We had no choice but to buy them back.
Lesson learned. Be grateful. As I say, there are gift rules.
But last week I had a gift rule challenged.
At the weekend the doorbell rang and there was a nice fella standing on my doorstep telling me that he had come to collect the ‘drawers’.
‘What drawers?’, I was about to say until my daughter appeared and informed me that she was selling off parts of her bedroom to raise funds for a refurbishment plan.
Before I had a chance to challenge what was happening, I was carrying out some old Ikea drawers with a man I had never met before and sliding them into the back of a blue panel van.
He was thrilled.
My daughter had her palm covered with cash, and I was confused.
I started to advise my children that bedroom contents are still officially owned by me.
However, they were quick to challenge what I had said/shouted previously for the past 15-plus years.
For example: ‘Go to your room, tidy your room, it’s your room, so take responsibility.’
I conceded, but pointed out these were terms used by desperate parents and not an actual legal contract.
It was also pointed out to me that when someone is given something, it's up to them what they do with it.
That’s how gifts work. Is a bed a gift? Is a shelf a gift? Are desks and chairs a gift?
I was slightly appeased by the idea that the money would be going back into paint and different furniture. Although that could be just a smokescreen.
Before I had a chance to inquire further and put in place some boundaries, the doorbell went again and it was a lady collecting a bedside cabinet. My family is out of control. I decided that I’m going to put stickers on things that are mine starting with the sofa and TV. Before it’s too late.
My daughter had her palm covered with cash, and I was confused.