Today I was both the giver and the recipient of gifts. One friend has just had a baby. Like I did with Bea, she has suffered a lot to get this little soul here. And Georgia is in 2nd grade with her son and while we were out shopping this weekend, we both decided we needed to get a present for this new baby. She and Camille picked out a super sweet, super soft blanket. My close friends know I have something of an obsession with soft blankets. A Linus complex if you will. So it seemed perfect.
After school we drove it over, handed over the bag and as I was oohing and ahhing over the baby, my friend opened the present, exclaimed with delight, "How perfect," she said. "Every new baby deserves new blankets," I commented. She kind of stared at me and then I see what she's holding. Not the green-yellow-blue blankie, but a remote control cop car. I GAVE HER THE WRONG GIFT! I accidentally grabbed the one meant for the party Millie is going to on Wednesday. Since I'm leaving on Tuesday for the funeral, I've been getting stuff ready and snatched the wrong bag. So I laugh and explain and she's so gracious. I mean, this is the woman who acted like a battery operated police car is a great gift for a newborn!! Later in the afternoon I handed off the intended gift and got an even more gracious thank you. I love this friend.
Earlier in the day another friend had given me a gift. She handed me a bag from Trader Joe's and said, "Comfort food." I was so touched. I could see chips and sparkling limeade and thought about how this friend gives such good, practical gifts. When Georgia was born she dropped by a huge Costco size thing of paper plates that EVERY DAY I was thankful for over those next hectic weeks. Especially since we had no dishwasher at that point. Later as I emptied the bag, I found a tube of mascara. Hmmm. I thought. I looked closer. Waterproof. I got teary just thinking about how prescient this friend is, knowing I'll be speaking at my dad's funeral and would never have thought to bring waterproof mascara. She called me later and as I start to thank her, she tells me that while she was driving, when she stopped at a light her mascara must have rolled off the seat, and could I look in the Trader Joe's bag as it was on the floor of her car. I laughed. And laughed. I told her it was there, what I had thought, and about the blanket-R/C car mix up and we just giggled. But I'm telling you, next time one of my friend's has to attend a family funeral, I'm putting a ribbon on a wand of cry-proof mascara.