Of gifts that keep going round but.. :

It’s the rethought that counts!

Gaston de Rosayro

The problem with seasonal gifts, any gifts for that matter, is that you almost always give something you want for yourself.

Many people will put on a fake smile about the horrible gift they just received but others will try to pass it on to another victim. I was given a Sudoku book by a mean relative. Every column, row, and 3×3 square had to contain the numbers 1 through 9 exactly once. The rules of Sudoku are surprisingly simple. Just Count to Nine! Okay I may be hopeless at mathematics but I am not exactly retarded and can manage to count to nine!

Are you a re-gifter? I am usually not. But I defiantly re-gifted the Sudoku book to my grand-daughter Keshini who is a whiz at it. The cycle is known as the gift that keeps giving.

People give me books they want to read, music they enjoy listening to, and subscriptions to publications they value and then I have been gifted with some of the most unwanted literary drivel such as ‘The Music of Bach’ by Aaron G. String, ‘The Singer’ by Barry Tone and ‘All My Travels’ by Wanda Lust.

All these books must have had their authors in spasms of writer’s cramp and totally painful in terms of reader digestion. They are big tomes with a surplus of inconsequential poppycock which I will review with an economy of words in this column: “These novels are not to be tossed lightly aside, but to be hurled with great force.”

This year, however, a bright shining bulb illuminated my hazy noggin. I would recommend only gifts I myself desired! As an author myself I hate these books I just mentioned. But as an angler to boot I will bait my hooks on my favourite author who reminds me of myself. As a matter of fact, it does happen to be myself. Again as an unbiased reviewer I would dare say if you have not read my satire book ‘The Serendib Spirit’ you have not lived. So you would better buy one because it is better read before you are dead. And you will have no choice but to believe me book, line, and sinker!

But getting back to the subject of seasonal gifts you must be aware that men and boys want things to play with instead of things to wear. Women want things to wear instead of things to play with. The key to remember is that men want hardware while women want software and no, we are not talking about the computer kind and please skip the novelties such as the ‘Snake Nut Can’ that rattles loose nuts. It is a small can labelled ‘Mixed Nuts’ which hides a 30 inch plastic snake that pops out when the can is opened.

And even worse, perhaps, is receiving a gift that you would not buy for your worst enemy. Well, maybe for your worst enemy, but only if it is on sale. Please avoid anything pink for some men who go paranoid about the colour.

That is because they feel it is a feminine colour. But the actual fact is that they feel effeminate.

They hate everything pink including shirts, ties, socks and handkerchiefs. I for one, can carry off a pink shirt and tie rather admirably but stop short of the matching socks and handkerchief.

So if you have a boss with an anti-pink colour neurosis who you don’t like, give him a set of pink handkerchiefs and socks. But make sure you have secured another job before you inscribe these words on the gift card: “Inky pinky Polly … Hitler looks a dolly … or rather a ‘seenimutai’ candy floss boss.”

I also gave a spiteful woman acquaintance, named Victoria a gift certificate for a facelift, soon after I came to know she had contracted chicken pox. I told her it was the best gift I could think of for our ‘Itchy Witchy Vicky!’

There is also no better way to ruin someone's holiday than to arm their children with the tools to endlessly annoy them. You can ensure your arch-enemy friends are thrown into a nightmare of your own wicked making. Here are some good ways to use your ill-wishers’ children as proxies in a war of annoyance.

Try giving a toy ice-cream maker with which the kids can actually make the real thing. The whole home will become a sticky, gelatinous mess. Then there is the ‘Daddle Saddle’ which is a saddle for Dads to wear. Your child rides you around the house like a horse. Again and again and again and again. So you have to go giddy-up a ding-dong as long as your spine holds out.

Into your carefully calibrated world of gift-giving punishment are other exasperating devices such as the noisiest toys imaginable. Percussion is a great choice, kettledrums, Moroccan bongos, Chinese cymbals,‘virudu rabanas’ and yes, ear-splitting whistles. Add a few cap guns to your inventory that make a loud bang similar to a gunshot and exude a puff of smoke when the trigger is pulled. It will drive their parents up the wall while you will be voted the most popular Uncle of the Year.

Sometimes I get the feeling that if Christmas, Father's Day and birthdays did not exist, then aftershave too, would not exist! I am an obsessive bather. I sometimes take four showers a day. But some people I know should take a bath, or shower, every once in a while. So a pack of soap might be the best choice of a gift for them and they might be complimented on their appealing new aroma and remember men do not wear perfume. They dab on after-shave.

And maybe people will tell you, "You smell good", and ask "what's the name of the perfume you're wearing?"

And you simply reply with a sly smile on your face, "It lathers well with water. It's called soap!"