So You Forgot Tomorrow Was Christmas: Great DIY Last Minute Gift Ideas
For Your Father: Dad works hard at his job every other day of the year, and probably just wants to relax with a board game or similar activity over the holidays. As any hobby shop can tell you, 3D puzzles are big right now. But rather than dropping coin on one of those fancy store models, go the sentimental route with something handmade. You know that ceramic mug you accidentally dropped last week? Stick it in a gift bag with a tube of superglue and boom! Instant hours of fun.
For Your Mother: Nobody in the history of ever has gotten tired of the “homemade book of coupons.” With construction paper, markers, and glitter, make Mom gift cards for the things she really wants: “Good for one outing to any movie starring that guy you like, you know, that ‘nice blue eyed fellow from Silver Linings Playbook, Chris something?’” “Good for one evening walk through the neighborhood while you point out every house that has pretty Christmas lights.” Additionally, you can give coupons for all the things you normally do (“Good for one hug”) but now it means something because it’s on a little square of paper. Don’t forget — and this is crucial — to add expiry dates to all of them.
For Your Sister: Go for something chic and rustic with a natural, outdoorsy centerpiece. No, you don’t need to go to Anthropologie. Just head to the park! They’re practically giving pinecones away there. Not enough? Add a stick! Still feels kind of sparse? Add a second stick! The combinations are literally endless. Don’t add more than two sticks, though. That’s just excessive.
For Your Niece and Nephew: Give them a Make Your Own Sock Puppet kit! You provide the old socks, they just need to add the googly eyes, glue, felt, yarn, hands, and imagination. Can’t get that at Target.
For Your Partner: According to this academic text, giving your lover a lock of your own hair is considered “a sign of love and devotion.” Normally, the lock is a small curl tied with a delicate ribbon, or preserved in a locket. True love doesn’t require all those fancy adornments, however. Let the hair speak for itself by packaging it in something tasteful yet simple, like a manila envelope. There is no need to stop at just one lock, either. If you’re worried you don’t have enough hair to fill up a whole envelope, you could probably ask your local hair salon if they have any scraps they are willing to give you. Write a message on the envelope that sums up your relationship with your beloved, like “YOURS FOREVER AND EVER,” and slip it under their pillow for them to find right before they fall asleep.
For your BFF: Picture this. it’s getting late, Christmas Eve. Your best friend is sitting at her kitchen table, hands wrapped around a cup of tea, sighing to herself. “So [your name here] forgot my gift again,” she says to herself wistfully before laughing it off. “That is so her. She would forget her head if it wasn’t screwed onto her shoulders.” She tells herself that she doesn’t care, that this holiday isn’t about presents anyway. Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. She gets up, rushes to the door, opens it, and — nobody is there. She looks around the chilly wintry air, but the night is as still as it ever was. Then she looks down. On her doorstep is a parcel. She picks it up, heads back inside to the warmth, carefully tears off the brown paper. Underneath is a slightly smaller package, wrapped in gift wrap. She removes that layer only to find another one underneath, and another layer under that one. Like Russian nesting dolls, the gift gets smaller and smaller with every layer of paper she removes, yet her anticipation gets bigger and bigger. The final parcel is no bigger than the now sweaty palm of her hand. Inside that is a matchbox. She opens it up and — nothing. The box is empty. Her brow furrows in confusion, before she gets it. Of course! The nothingness inside the box is a metaphor, a reminder that within that small space contains a veritable infinity representing the all the possibilities that exist within your friendship, both in the shared years behind you and in the anticipation of years to come. A single tear of a joy rolls down her cheek and lands, with a plop, right in the center of the matchbox. She closes it shut and tenderly clasps it to her heart. You, having been watching the scene unfold through a crack in her curtains, nod once in approval, before turning around to walk home alone through the gently falling snow. “You sly fox,” you whisper to your self, the words dissolving into the crisp winter air, “you’ve done it again.”
Anna Fitzpatrick promises to do better next year.
