A gift to her on mothers’ day,
Her first reaction is always the same, “You shouldn’t have”,
Then, when the gift is unwrapped - and the wrapping paper saved for later of
course,
It is then that I know that she was right, “I shouldn’t have”,
The gift - no matter how tasteful, elegant, well-researched - is always wrong.
She manages to find flaws in every gesture, take those white slippers for
example:
White polar wool, with three colorful flowers sewn onto each, with inner
cushioning to make the landing of the step softer on the sole, machine-wash-
able and expensive at that too!
But they’re white so she can’t wear them for gardening.
But they’re too soft so she feels she’s walking on air.
But they’re machine washable so she’s afraid they’d lose the fluffiness of the
wool.
And “How much do they cost anyway? The look expensive, you could have
saved the money for something else. They are after all, only slippers.”
“I specifically asked if they could be exchanged, and the shop assistant said
yes, I could take them back and exchange them for something else.”
Noticing that she went too far in the finding flaws, she changes tactics “Oh,
they’re all right if I want to wear them as I sip my morning coffee.”
The deal is made. They’ll be the white black coffee slippers she wears in the
morning.
I know she is cheating on her part of the deal, as she wears them when some
neighbors and their daughters sometimes drop by. She wants them to ask her
where she got those lovely slippers from.
She fakes a blush as she says “A gift on mothers’ day.”
Then, just before I sleep on that day, she comes back to me with the haunting
question, “So, how much do they really cost.”
“They’re a gift. I am not supposed to tell.”
“Well, I must know. Just to have an idea what such items cost these days.”
“I am not saying. They’re a gift.”
Morning comes and as I awake, I find her sitting in the bamboo sofa right
next to the window soaking the newly-born sunlight and wearing the white
black coffee slippers.
“They’re at 24 Dollars, during sales.” I finally deliver the line that stopped
her from sleeping at night.
“Allah ykhallili yekoun” - “May God preserve you all to me” she murmurs
as she hugs. She always includes every child in the wish, no matter who
contributed to the gift’s price pitch.
Then going back to the essentials, she makes sure “You did spare the wrap-
ping paper, didn’t you?”
Well, at times I really feel that “I shouldn’t have.”