Christmas Hypocrite

That would be me. The Christmas hypocrite.

I hate, hate, hate the questions, "What do you want for Christmas?" and "What's on your Christmas list?" Very kind, well-intentioned people (to whom I am related, in most cases) wanting to know how to shop for me. I don't blame them. I already have my basic needs, and I'm not too picky about what I wear. I have only one hobby, and I have everything affordable that I need for that. So, I'm not easy to shop for, I know. But I'm also easy to shop for, since I'm equally as mildly-excited about really cool gifts as mediocre gifts. So I frustrate those who want to buy something for me, but I still hate those questions.

I'm not sure why I'm so messed up. I don't like to be demanding. Being selfish is bad, they say, so I try not to be. I don't like the attention of the question, or even the attention I get when opening a gift. The giver is usually more excited than I am, and my even-keeled reaction usually disappoints. "Hey, that's nice. Thanks. What time is kickoff?" I'm truly grateful, but not very demonstrative. Worse, if the gift is something I want, then I feel bad that I got it. There's got to be a disease name for this. Presentosis.

When people ask those question, I try to remember they are being nice, and yet no matter how I try, I can only manage to mumble and stutter and say nothing helpful.

But I'm a Christmas hypocrite, because I'm lightning quick to ask the exact same questions of them!

I'm admittedly an unskilled gift-receiver. But I'm a horrible gift-giver. So I ask those questions. I never have had a good idea of a gift to buy. Never. I despise shopping, and I'm uncontrollably hostile against malls (those non-sequential zoos of colorful, loud, tortuous frenzy!). Ideas I think will be great invariably end up falling flat (I get less than "Hey, that's nice" because they say lying is bad, too). Then there it is ... I've wasted yet another entire year of gift-giving, and it will be twelve long months before I can disappoint again.

So, I ask the questions in order to avoid pain for both of us - the very questions I hate to be asked and can never answer comfortably. Hypocrite, and at Christmas of all things! 'Tis the season to be sorry, fa la la la blah!

First-world problem, I realize.

Some people are great gift-givers. I married one of those. Some are great gift-receivers - so gracious, making the giver feel so good. These people are aliens to me. They come from a different world, speak a different language (called Giftonian), and collectively think that I'm the alien. Strange beasts who make it all look so easy.

I probably won't change. I'm tired of trying. To be honest, friendship is the only gift I really value.

So don't be surprised if you get burlap socks or a paint-by-numbers kit that uses Roman numerals. Whatever it is, it will be poorly wrapped and likely missing a tag saying who it is to and who it is from. But you'll know who it's from. Sorry.