When I pulled the screeching, cross-eyed chicken out of the dainty gift bag, I smiled. Sure, I have no use for a fire-alarm-loud toy chicken in daily applications, but I was elated the gift-giver thought of me when he saw it on a shelf.
The chicken – a toy version of Heihei, the deranged chicken in the animated “Moana” movies – was given to me as a birthday present from a consummately tasteful relative on my wife’s side of the family. Squeeze toy Heihei’s wing, and he emits a rash-inducing screech that can torment multiple zip codes.
As a gift to a 57-year-old man in cargo shorts, it made no sense. Unless, of course, that 57-year-old schlub gained mild notoriety for writing a series of newspaper articles on J-Lo, the Ocala chicken with two butts. Let’s just say this is not my first gifted chicken.
The useless Heihei pleased me greatly because it reminded me of gift giving with my side of the family. My wife’s family – even during white-elephant gift exchanges – carefully considers gifts designed to elicit words like “adorable,” “precious,” “I can’t wait to use this,” and “Chocolate? I LOVE chocolate!”
We’re talking kitchen items, adorable baskets, gourmet snacks, adorable baskets of gourmet snacks, decorations, cookie tins, chocolate, cookie tins stuffed with chocolate, and embroidered things that required much personal consideration. Amy’s family sets a $25 gift limit that is never followed, as the only thing these family members like better than buying gifts is watching recipients open their thoughtfully planned gifts.
My side of the family, however, is all about the gags. The more obnoxious, the better.
A screeching chicken with crossed eyes would not raise an eyebrow in my family unless he could be recruited for some nefarious pranks before dinner. My family loves to give funny gifts, presents that make the receiver go, “This is disgusting. I love it!”
In my family, for example, one horrific white-elephant gift keeps returning to the party each year in wonderful ways. Not sure who first tossed the hideous red, white and blue fanny pack with Bluetooth speakers in the mix, but my sister and my nephew have been exchanging it in creative ways each year.
It ended up strapped and unnoticed-for-days to a Halloween skeleton one year, and then delivered back North via a threatening package from an attorney. As of this writing, my nephew is plotting its dramatic return to my sister’s house. Not sure of his plan, but I think it will involve outside vendors.
The rich tradition of gift dysfunction runs deep in my family. It goes back to the 1970s when the kids would go to bed at Christmas, the adults would raid the liquor cabinet and play with the kids’ new toys.
Once, I received a football toy in which you smashed the player’s head like a game-show buzzer, and his leg would kick a hard-plastic football that could bruise human flesh and put out an eye. That night, I woke up to find my parents and older siblings – hours into the eggnog – cheering when the airborne plastic football chipped a light switch cover.
Everyone loves toys. My Christmas gift package to Amy’s family last year included an Etch A Sketch, which was highly protected during the stealing part of the white elephant process.
The good gifts with practical longevity also fell into protected status. Amy’s family puts much thought into their gift packages. Then one rogue family member – the one voted least likely to shop for cross-eyed chickens – broke protocol.
I loved it. I have no idea what I am going to do with it, but it doesn’t matter. I have a cross-eyed screeching chicken, and you don’t.
One more thing of note: It seems after 32 years of marriage, my sweet wife – raised in the ways of practical gifts – purchased a wall calendar this year for my family’s gift exchange.
The calendar’s title: Pooping Pooches.
I have never been prouder.
