gifts are not my love language

Okay, I confess, gifts are not my love language.

My dear sister once sent us alligator heads for our boys for Christmas.  They had glass marble eyes.  I sent them back.

My son and daughter-in-law tried to give me the new special Whataburger ketchup for my birthday. But, I gave it back to them.  I have plenty of Hunts.  And little packets of Whataburger.  And the Heintz is unpatriotic.

Nope. I do not receive gifts well.  I either re-gift them, or give them to them that might use or want them.  

My husband gave up trying to buy me clothes.  I took a sweater back---don't remember if it was the wrong size/color or what.  Just did not want to see it go to waste. 

Getting to play with all the grands---that is the best gift.  Getting to see my sons, and daughters-in-law and future daughter-in-law.  That is better than jewels or trips or dust collectors. 

I'd rather have bottles of Tazo tea than a cake.  Cakes do not keep.  Bottles of Tazo tea will be fun for days and days.  I'd rather have a fun meal out than cake.  Salmon at BJs, or ribs at Angelos or lasagna at Olive Garden, lemon veal piccatta at Carrabbas, limas and lemon chicken at C. Barrel, catfish at Babes...

no, fat ladies do not need cake.   Oat meal cookies---perfecting a recipe with a dollop of sour cream, and olive oil and butter...much better than cake and roses.  roses fade.  But, the memory of little guys playing lasts a long, long time.