The Godiva Quandary

When I reached Houston and got up to the front doorstep of what had been my home for the past 3 years, I saw a gift bag with a card and candy cane attached. The wind had blown the doormat against the door, and the gift was held delicately between the two, like a stuffed pita bread sandwich. I had a feeling of who it was from, and I also had a feeling of excitement of what my parents would inevitably fret about. What were they going to do? Let the fun commence.

‘Mama, Lisa from next door got you something.’

Rather than be excited about getting a gift, Mama’s face contorted into a look of concern, wondering what the gift was, how much it cost, and what would be a commensurate gift. Oh well, Mama’s problem, not mine. Apparently, it was Dad’s problem too (he had gotten off his contract work for Christmas).

Dad: ‘What did they get us?’

Mama: ‘Candy. They have 2 kids. It’s probably just something they normally buy for themselves, but they just gifted us one of them.

Last year, Lisa had given us some scented candle, an obvious regift. This year, I think Mama was wrong: our neighbors aren’t rolling around in money to buy their young kids Godiva truffles. By the way, Godivas are an easy gift for any woman in your life. And if she’s allergic, she can always regift it. Who doesn’t like chocolate? Stockpile them and ‘I’m sorry’ cards, and be sure they’re not expired before you give them.

After I got my luggage upstairs to my old room, I headed back to the railing overlooking the living room. Dad and Mama had finished a light argument about why white people are compelled to give gifts. The only clear thing to do is to give them something back; too bad they couldn’t just rewrap the chocolates and give it back to Lisa.

Mama had pulled out some rectangular object with a clear plastic window from her closet. It was beige, and looked like a boring version of some gift package you would get at Bath & Bodyworks. She deftly took some wrapping paper and covered the thing in 3 minutes flat. Mama took out a card from her cache of thoughtful thoughtlessness (cards for people you didn’t plan on giving a card) and harassed Dad to come up with some Christmas-sy message.

The whole scene was so worth the missed rerun of Two and a Half Men.

Although we are Catholic and celebrate Christmas, we don’t do that much gift-giving (Vietnamese people like money, and it’s a bit strange to exchange $100 bills for each other). The funny thing is that the awkward situation was probably shared by families of all races and creeds, not just my stingy Viet parents.

At least they got Lisa and her family something.