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Language Log

Saturday, Dec. 14, 2013 - 7:39 a.m.

Yesterday my mom, after dismissing (but complying with) my concern that a USB-powered snow globe was not a good choice for a present for Q, bought her a set of ceramic s/p shakers. Yeah. Because they were shaped like Mickey and Minnie. Had the store wrap them, gave them to Q, and didn't tell me anything about it-- whether it was a gift for me or for Q, when it should be opened, nothing. So as soon as we got home, Q opened them and started playing with them (because they looked like toys!). She clearly loved them. I warned her they were fragile and would break very easily. She managed the first round to put them on the table when she was done, but later that evening...broken. She was heartbroken.

Really, mom? Really? $17 for that, and you don't have to deal with the mess or tears. I could have told her which book to buy for that much.

She always complains about money and how the kids don't need anything and have all the toys already, and I guess this is my fault for not pointing her to something she could buy regardless of her protestations. So she bought herself a moment of fun with Q, no regard for what that meant for the rest of us.

I know I'm pretty hard on her sometimes, and someday I'll miss her crazy shenanigans, but fucking hell this was a dumb choice.


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