Responses to last week's survey continue to come in, so I'll wait to roll them up. You can stop with the "my mother always got me socks for Christmas" stories, though, as that rather misses my point. We already knew your mother doesn't love you, so a sock monument to same really isn't that illuminating.
Several people have asked what my favorite gift has been. Several come to mind. A few years ago, Katrina got me The Improvisational Cook, a cookbook that concentrates on an area I'm especially weak at: intuitively knowing what ingredients will compliment what. The book came in a basket of various gourmet spices, rubs, oils, etc. A fantastic gift. I think I got her an AM/PM gift certificate that year.
Maddie once surprised me with an old world map, beautifully framed, when we were very poor. I didn't know I wanted it, but man, did I. I loved it then, and I love it now. It forever has a place on my wall.
I think the most touched I've ever been by a gift was Sarah's drawing of Ed, two Christmases ago. It's huge, it's perfect, it aggravates anyone who sees it because of the thought of a person this talented wasting her life. Right now it's in a closet, unframed, still in the pad on which she sketched it. Someday I hope to be able to look at it and think of Ed and not some creepy skank.
No luck yet.