My in laws are truly sweet people. They are giving at times, thoughtful at times and just good people. This is why I feel like a brat with this next entry but it is too good not to share.
Picks’ mom is adorable with holiday gifts - wraps them perfectly, writes sweet little clues on the outside to help me guess what is wrapped on the inside. Picks’ mom is not adorable when it comes to the actual gift inside the adorably-wrapped package. She is rather the opposite.
In years past I’ve gotten some random things such as a calendar containing pictures of Picks as a kid. Sorry, I don’t like having my husband’s infancy on my desk - it’s weird. I’ve gotten a lasagna server (random), a quilted fish pot holder, a black fabric flower (I suppose for my funerals?), a zebra print fleece scarf (not sure what about me screams zebra other than nothing) and too many others to recall.
Of all the gifts, this year was by far the funniest. The clue on the outside read “to help you remember this special time in your life” - referring to me being pregnant. I’m thinking maybe it’s a journal, photo album, picture frame or something along those lines. Nope. I open the gift and inside is a clay-carved figurine of a man with his arms around a pregnant woman. Yes, you read that correct. We have a clay figurine of a guy and pregnant girl that came courtesy of the hallmark shop.
Now a random person in my prenatal yoga class owns the figurine and is bringing it to a white elephant party. I guaranteed her that this gift would make her new friends instantly.
I’m petrified of what his mom might get me for my birthday…