The Love Fern.

I generally pride myself in giving good gifts. You know the Five Love Languages book? My love language is gifts. I will argue that gift givers are not the gold-digging, superficial group. Maybe we just like to think of special characteristics, memories, or other sentimental value that can be represented perfectly in a gift. Not necessarily expensive. But perfect, nonetheless. And if I can't think of something perfect in any of those categories, I think of something that will definitely make that person laugh.

This was Dad's Christmas present last year:

At least that's what it was supposed to look like. This is what his grew up to look like:

MY DAD KILLED OUR LOVE FERN! He let it die. And when I confronted him about it he said, "no, he's African American. His hair is different. It's supposed to be like that."

Figures.