In my early 20’s, I worked at an oilfield company. It was a family-owned business, 2 brothers and one of their wives. Throughout the year, most of the owners’ 12 (twelve) brothers managed to work for them, at some point. So when it came time for the company Christmas party, it felt like I was an outsider at a family dinner. But the booze flowed pretty freely, so I got over it.
After dinner at one of the town’s 2 (two) restaurants, we all came back to the owners’ house for drinks. The main event of the evening was a gift exchange. The way it worked was that everyone drew a number. Lowest number picked and unwrapped a gift first. Anyone with a higher number could then steal someone’s opened gift, or pick a new one. (I’ve heard this referred to as a Chinese Auction, also as a Dutch Auction. But I’ve also been assured by people from both of those ethnic groups that they do not wile away the time at gatherings by stealing gifts from each other. So who knows where the names came from.)
I had the second highest number. No WAY was I going home with a set of fugly potholders. I was gonna get me something good.
The first to unwrap was a little boy. The littlest, cutest nephew in the whole damn family. Spoke with a lisp, and everything. If a Care Bear and a basket of kittens reproduced, they couldn’t have made anything cuter than this wee bugger.
He opened his gift, and found 3 shot glasses. The colors of half the rainbow. He immediately turned to his Mommy, and said “I’m gonna give these to you. Because you’re so pretty!”
Couple turns later, Owen opens his gift. The other 3 shot glasses.
And finally, it’s my turn. Someone says, jokingly, “Well, Ginny, you could have yourself a nice set of shot glasses, if you steal the other 3 from the kid!” And everyone laughed. Because who would do such a thing?
I still feel a little proud every time I use them. Children need to learn disappointment early on. It’s better that way.
(Hey, don’t blame me. Blame the cheap bastard who split the set up, in the first place.)