Last week, a few days before my birthday which, by the way, I graciously shared with World Nutella Day, Timothy went out with his Dad. Since I wasn’t invited along I had a pretty good idea their declaration of “going to run errands” really meant they were going birthday shopping.
Sure enough, when they returned home Timothy nonchalantly walked through the kitchen holding something under his shirt. And like a good mom, I pretended not to notice. I also pretended not to notice when, a few minutes later, he rummaged through the kitchen drawer for scissors and tape.
As a mom, it is very endearing watching my sons learn how to gift. In the beginning it was homemade cards with “Hapy Birfday” written in a purple crayon; later, their cards were elaborately decorated with Pikachu, Jigglypuff or Bulbasaur, their drawings reflecting the Pokémon world which fueled their imagination.
Then, for several years I received gift baskets of soap or shampoo because in their young minds a mom is a girl, and girls smell good, so therefore girls (and moms) must really like gardenia soap or shampoo that smells like a lavender field.
Over time the gifts reflected things we liked to do together – a board game (Settlers of Catan) because that was the one strategy game I could play, or the DVD box set for Season 3 of Sherlock (which we watched together).
Then there were those gifts that were all about Mom’s favorite things: Starbucks gift cards, anything Downton Abbey, and Sephora gift cards which had me smiling just thinking of my guys walking out carrying that little black and white bag.
And I especially hold dear the thoughtful gifts: the year Jonathan, when he heard that Joe and my parents wouldn’t be here on my actual birthday, rearranged his work schedule at Arby’s so he could take me out to dinner; and when Nicholas, after he learned I had to limit my cappuccino to once a week due to a dairy intolerance, sent me a huge box of assorted teas from Two Rivers Tea Company.
Which brings me to this year’s birthday present from Timothy. Over the weekend he became even more mysterious when he informed me, “It’s perfect that your birthday is on a Monday because your present is a Monday gift.”
Monday? What was so special about Monday? The only thing we do every Monday is go to school, come home, go to practice, eat dinner, and watch Better Late than Never. Actually, that show – featuring Henry Winkler, William Shatner, George Foreman, and Terry Bradshaw – is the highlight of our Monday. Watching those celebrities (along with their sidekick Jeff Dye) cavort through Europe is funny stupid. Or is it stupid funny? Anyway, they’re all funny (most especially Terry Bradshaw) and the show makes us laugh out loud.
So, what was Timothy’s perfect-for-a-Monday-present? Drum roll, please ...
He gave me Terry Bradshaw’s book, It’s Only a Game. I laughed when I unwrapped because … well, can you imagine me … and a book about Terry Bradshaw? But then I laughed because it was the most perfect, thoughtful gift, one which will forever evoke memories of us laughing like crazy together on the living room couch every Monday night.I’m going to read that book. I’m going to learn more about Terry Bradshaw than I would have ever thought possible, and then I’m going to proudly display it on my book shelf ... right between the Shakespeare volumes and poetry books.
Hapy Birfday to me!