Just What I Wanted

If you’re not finished with your Christmas shopping by now, you may be considering the last-minute gift options offered in your spam e-mail. And good luck with that.

I’m in the clear this year, but I feel for you if you’re not. The desperate shopper is a sad spectacle, screening such possibilities as the butter-soft goat suede jacket, the gentleman’s coin sorter or the federal agent’s convertible jacket, which, they say, has 40 pockets, many of them hidden.

Adults often refuse to come right out and tell you what they want for Christmas. They like, or say they like, to be surprised, so they leave gift choices open. It’s a test. If you really care, you’ll be inspired.

This tradition has resulted in an epidemic of shopper’s stress disorder and some mighty dubious gift choices over the years, several of them by me.

Kids know better how to handle the holiday. We recently unearthed a letter our daughter Katie wrote when she was 7. It is typical.

It began “Dear Santa, I would like,” followed by a list of 10 gift options, the second of which was “Flyerponys Magic Meadow.” She was concerned about Santa being able to find her house that year and added, “We might move to alta Laguna Bulivard. Thank you. Love, Katy P.S. I realy want those Flyerponys.”

The spelling wasn’t all there, although I like it that she took a full swing at “boulevard.” But she spelled out her top priority clearly enough. She left nothing to chance. And if you don’t want to end up with the gentleman’s coin sorter, you’d do well to follow Katie’s lead with your own personal Santa. It may not be too late.

In the past, Patti Jo and I have surprised each other every year, for good or ill. But this time we gave each other a breather and did it the Katie way -- we told each other what we wanted.

You might say we took the fun out of it, but then, what’s fun -- having something to look forward to, or saying “Surprise me” and getting a leatherette elephant footrest?

I was home two weeks ago when a package arrived for Patti Jo which I have every reason to believe is my present. I was forbidden, of course, to open it, and I haven’t seen it since, but it looked promising and I know it’s around somewhere. There’s a good chance I’ll wake up before Katie on Sunday morning.

And I’ve gotten the gift Patti Jo wants, which has taken an enormous amount of anxiety out of my December. Of course, I’m also getting her a couple small surprises, because I’m not a fool. But the great thing is I can’t really misfire this time around.

So the next time your toughest recipient says “Surprise me” or “Oh, I don’t know” or “Nothing, really,” tell him or her that Santa doesn’t work that way.

Santa likes a hint. Kids understand these things.20051223hrimoxkf(LA)