Brown paper packages tied up with strings

Why is it so easy to think of presents for children, whether or not they are suitable or what the child likes or wants, but almost impossible to think of something for an adult? When I was a child I recall mixed feelings about book-tokens and suchlike. I was delighted and grateful to be given the present, but it was always so dull to open. And it would usually be some days before I could get to the shops to spend it so the gilt of a shiny new gift had worn off slightly. A parcel to unwrap was always so much more exciting – and if the donor had made suitable secret enquiries and it happened to be the book I would have chosen for myself had I been given a token, then honour was satisfied all round. Choosing a gift for a teenager is fraught with difficulty. Fads and fashions come and go very quickly, and what would be received with genuine delight one week is terribly out-of-date the next, so in this case money is usually a safe bet.

Gift-buying for adults, however, is well-nigh impossible. By this stage people can usually afford to buy whatever they want when they want it, so the donor has to try to think of something the recipient hasn’t thought about, but realises that being without whatever it is meant their life was somehow incomplete. If you ask an adult what they’d like, you either get told “Oh I don’t know. Something nice” (yeah, that’s really helpful) or something that requires a substantial lottery win.

Yes, you’ve guessed it. The family birthday season is fast approaching. And I’m stumped already.