The "Perfect Gift"

One of the things about trying to be a good dad that's always bugged me is Christmas Day. In some ways, I dread the holiday. Why would I dread the most anticipated day of the year? For that very reason - anticipation.

Several years ago, we decided to have each of our kids open one gift on Christmas eve. It wasn't supposed to be a big deal because we knew the "best" presents were yet to come on Christmas day. When one of my kids opened the present, they were stunned. It was pajamas. They were so stunned that they cried. I was pretty choked up too. I couldn't believe that such a let down could occur.

So the anticipation is a big deal - especially for the younger crowd. They have more than "visions of sugar plums" dancing in their heads.

The other side of the coin is that I'm not about to spend a fortune to meet that anticipation.

Consequently gift giving becomes quite a tricky business. I want to have their eyes light up, but I don't want them to think that whatever they say is whatever they get.

So we tried a little different approach this year. We asked what they wanted, but we also listened to what they said they wanted when they weren't asking. Some things were verbal. Some things were non- verbal.

We bought presents that they wanted, but then also worked subtly to avoid the "crash" of not receiving what they anticipated. We'd ask questions like "what if you get such and such instead of that really big thing you wanted?" Most of the time it was "Oh that'd be OK because..." But once in a while they'd go on to offer clues as to why they really wanted the first request. We'd listen carefully and then make a decision based on what we'd learned.

I have to say it went quite well. Each child had a favorite gift and even if the gift we bought wasn't the favorite, it was still mentioned as being "great."


There was one exception to this approach this year. My daughter is so very hard to buy for because she doesn't always know what she wants and she can not do anything physically. Giving her any kind of present is a challenge.

I got the idea for "the perfect gift" in an odd place - a funeral. Recently a friend lost her 24 year old son. His caregivers talked about what he liked and what they did to make sure he got to do what he liked. One of the caregivers talked about making sure he had HIS favorite music on his MP3 player. When I heard that, the light bulb went off in my head.

My daughter had recently received a new electronic communication device and part of it had a built in MP3 player. She'd been talking more and more about "music" and I knew she wanted some on her device. I realized though that I had never taken the time to REALLY find out what SHE wanted. So I bought her an iTunes card with the plan that on Christmas day I would spend the time sitting down with her and find out songs that SHE liked. I was excited because not only did I have a plan, I had something that I could actually DO with her while the other kids were tearing up the house with whatever they got.

After opening presents and before breakfast, we were off to my computer. We spent about an hour going through some artists that I knew she liked and then doing a wider search to see if she liked other things. After breakfast we returned to complete the searching. It was amazing how patient she was during the middle of the day when we played a couple of family games. In the evening she returned to the computer with my wife to confirm the earlier choices. Then I took over and we purchased the songs, downloaded them and I put them on her device.

She spent over an hour and a half listening and clicking through various choices on her device. Some times she'd share them with us, and at other times she'd turn the headphones on to listen by herself. I left the songs on while I got her ready for bed. During that time she said "Can I tell you something?" This usually means she's worried about something, but instead she merely said, "thank you." I knew exactly what she meant. She was thanking me for the music, for the time spent together and for the time to get the music on her device so she could use it. I gave her a big kiss and a very big "you're welcome."

Until you spend 17 Christmases looking for the "perfect gift" and watching your child be disappointed 17 times, you can't begin to imagine the overwhelming pleasure I had when she spoke those two words. No other present that I received this year can match the gift I was given in those two words.

I want to thank the caregivers of my friend's son who opened my eyes. Without their insight, I never would have found the "perfect gift."