Risky Business

Here it is, ladies. The aisle of I-am-far-enough-into-this-relationship-with-you-that I-have-to-get-you-a-gift-but-have-no-idea-what-to-buy-for-you gifts for men. These specially-packaged goodies range from stress balls with smiley faces to an automatic card shuffler. I don't believe that men really want these things. Honestly, I don't know what men, in general, want for gifts. (Based on some of the gifts I've gotten from men over the years, I'd wager there's bit of a struggle on their part as well.) Shopping for a guy is hard, especially in those early stages of a relationship, when you don't know his shirt size, and a pair of boxer shorts emblazoned with the words "Jingle Balls" feels a bit too intimate. 

My most-hearty laughter is reserved for a product on the top shelf - the personal trimmer. This is a gift that manages to be exceedingly personal - it's right there in the name - and oddly impersonal at the same time. It says, "I don't know what kind of books you read or have any sense of your musical tastes. What I do know about you is that you have a bit too much nose hair, and I'd really like if you did something about it." How's a guy supposed to react to a gift like that? Is he pleased that she wants to take care of him? Frightened that she'll be expecting him to start waxing delicate parts of himself by Valentine's?

I would argue that the whole notion of giving personal care appliances as gifts is flawed. And I just happen to have a story to illustrate my point:

I'm certain that my mother's intention was to give me a Christmas gift that would bring me joy in the upcoming year - something that would improve my life and make me think of her fondly every time I used it. So, when I was about eleven, she wrapped and ribboned a battery-powered Clearasil face-cleaning scrubby brush thing. I still remember seeing the picture of a teen model with flawless skin on the box and having the stomach-turning realization that I'd just unwrapped a gift designed to buff away my zits. 

Of course, the opening of gifts in my family was of the one-at-a-time and admire-what-everyone-got variety, so I got to open this embarrassing appliance with all my relatives looking on. I had kinda been hoping that no one would even notice that I was entering that awkward stage and that my skin had started to break out, but now my mother had pretty much announced it to the entire room. 

Though the tag on the present had my name written on it, the true gift really went to my older brother that year. You see, he found this to be the single-most hilarious thing he'd ever seen in all his fifteen years here on Earth. For several days he tormented me with questions about my "zit brush" and how it was workin' out for me. 

In my mind I picture some hapless tweenager out there today, anticipating an Xbox or a date with Zac Ephron from Santa this year. Poor kid's gonna get the full-on set of Proactiv products from a well-meaning relative. And I feel for that kid. I really do.

So, I guess what I'm saying is, "Step away from the personal care appliances!" If you are truly that flummoxed as to what to give someone this year, I've got two words for you: gift card.