If it's the thought that counts...

...what does it mean when your mother gives you a piece of clothing from a consignment shop wrapped up nicely as your Christmas present?

I'm still trying to figure that one out. The item in question---a heavily beaded black georgette blouse---is pretty in a mother-of-the-bride kind of way. Since I'll never be a mother of a bride, I'm not sure where I'll wear this blouse. Come to think of it, it wouldn't look out of place if I were headlining a show in Vegas, but unless there's a big demand for watching a fat woman in a sequined blouse knit, read, and surf the 'Net, well, I'm outta luck.

This isn't the first time she's given me a used item wrapped as a gift. There was the year she gave me a bright yellow and white silk scarf stained with red lipstick or nail polish or ink that she bought at a yard sale for seventy-five cents.

Here's the thing: I've got nothing against stuff from thrift stores/consignment shops, or yard sales. Even when the economy isn't made of the suck, I like looking for stuff in all of those places. It was the way she made a big deal out of the blouse before I even opened the box. "If (insert name of beloved sis-in-law here) can shop at consignment stores, so can I," declared TMOM dramatically. My internal alarms went off at that point, so I was able to keep a pleasant expression in place and avoid setting her off.

After all, I'd promised her I wouldn't ruin Christmas by "picking a fight." Like I always do, right?

But the prize winner for this year's holiday festivities has to be the four-slice toaster that she bought on sale at Sears for us. She made sure to tell us how she was so exhausted the day she drove out to Sears to buy the toaster that she had to literally drag it behind her in a big bag from the register to her car. Uphill. In the snow. No, not really...at least, not the uphill in the snow part. The dragging it in a big bag---totally part of the story. I wanted to apologize for her trouble, but I was afraid it would come out wrong because we hadn't asked for a toaster. We hadn't asked for anything. Between her health problems (real and imagined) and the fact that my Dad is running himself ragged trying to do everything, we didn't expect anything from them for Christmas.

It's a shame you can't return guilt trips. I'd exchange the toaster guilt trip for a nice skein of yarn.

Just sayin'.