Whispers in the Windstorm

( Thursday: I went to Michigan and it was okay )

( Friday-it-flies day )

( Saturday: Cue the rather sad violin music )

I'll cover the rest of the week sooner or later - but this is rather long enough. (And, I've been outshining the extemporaneous writing capabilities of many of my online peers, IMHO (and Noel's, too, I might add). So it's been a busy day. :D )

Eat Snacky Smores - now in limited-edition Holiday Plum Surprise flavor!

(I believe I bumped into this concept in a Reader's Digest, but I don't remember for certain.)

On one bright Christmas morning, a family is opening their presents. The father reaches under the tree and finds one to him with a label written in rather wide crayon. He smiles warmly, takes the gift, and opens it up. Inside, he finds a cute plastic sheriff's badge and small cap gun. [It's a somewhat old story, it is.] He laughs a little, looks over to his son, and speaks in a happily bemused voice.

"I'm not sure why Santa left this for me - I don't think I can really use it at work."

His son replies, ever-so-quickly, "Well, then - can I have it?"

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Hence, the meaning of "sheriff's badge," as it pertains to Christmas and non-Christmas gift-giving, is a gift one buys and gives primarily so that the gift will be in the house, and that the gifter can enjoy it themselves. At a later time, the gifter may actually take sole possession of the gift, as long as it is clear that the giftee is uninterested in it.

For example, the gifter might want to replace a particularly displeasing appliance, even though the giftee has an emotional or functional attachment to the older one. The giftee is somewhat disappointed in the gift - but the gifter will be very disappointed if the gift is regifted or otherwise disposed of, as the entire point of the gift was so that the gifter has access to it.

So if I ever use the term "Sheriff's badge" in conversation to refer to a gift, this is what I mean.

Events in recent history that have been up to now undocumented because I've been freaking busy at work (and my hips and legs have been plaguing me like the devil himself):

( Kinsey. )

( My one-year anniversary with Myra. )

( Christmas. )

There's more Christmas presents to talk about, and more that happened (Kat hit me with a shopping cart!), but I gotta get ready for work. Watch this space.

Eat Snacky Smores - this new Year.