Part 2: More Crap My Mom Has Sent

Readers said, “You left me hanging with your last story,” and “Tell me more about the stuff from your mom.” Here’s a follow-up story to last week’s blog.

One thing I know for certain, a mother never runs out of hankies, advice or impractical gifts, more crap.  And my mother was no different.  She visited me in California a few weeks after we unpacked from our move.  Like a peregrine falcon, her eyes zoned in on the “To Be Identified Pile” in the corner of the kitchen counter.

“What’s with all this junk?” she asked, picking up an item on the top.

“Stuff you’ve sent me over the years,” I said, shaking my head.

“No way.  Never seen it before,” she said without emotion and moved away.

“Are you kidding?  You sent this last month, “ I gripped an object that resembled a life-sized hand with slender fingers, hot red nails and a diamond wedding ring. Inside the palm of the hand was a circle the size of the bottom of a cup.

“Oh yeah, I remember.  It’s a cute cup holder.”

More like creepy. 

“And what about this?” I dangled a six-inch long by three-inch high white ceramic contraption with a central handle and five rings connected to a flat base.

“That’s easy.  It’s a toast rack.  Keeps the toast from getting soggy.  Use it when company comes.”

Should I host a black tie breakfast?

We poked through the pile one by one and discussed the pros and cons of keeping each.  By the end, she convinced me that maybe I needed a fish shaped platter to serve seafood and silver-plated iced tea spoons with crystal teapots at the tips for lemonade or iced coffee.

Mom knows best.

For lunch, we noshed on tuna salad sandwiches, veggies and barbeque chips.  I clasped a sandwich between silver etched tongs with flat circular ends. As I dropped the sandwich onto her paper plate she stared at it with a dreamy expression.

“I love this,” she said, grabbing it from me to hold in the light for closer inspection.  “Where’d you get it?”

Take a guess.

About staceygustafson


  1. We’ve all been there. My mom bought me a shell wind chime for our house on the lake. When we sold the house she came through to see what was being left and saw it. “You can’t leave that,” she said. “We have no choice,” I responded. “We agreed to sell the place fully furnished and can’t take a thing. I figure my revenge will come when when I buy gifts for my adult daughter. Hmmm, I’m thinking maybe regifting?

  2. My mom and dad come up from Southern California and each time they bring “stuff” they don’t want, assuming that I do. At least your mom has an imagination to find unique gifts.

Speak Your Mind


This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.