The art of gift-giving is a flex you either have or don’t. I come from a generation of horrible gift-givers. Every year, I receive numerous birthday and Christmas gifts that go straight to the donation pile. Despite telling my parents, siblings, and sometimes husband, “JUST STICK TO THE LIST,” they feel compelled to challenge themselves and hope to wow me. I can no longer fake my appreciation for a wooden wine crate wrapped in license plates. I simply pull out the wine bottles and hand the crate back.
I, however, have beaten this generational curse and have been told I am a very good gifter. My husband is the only one who may disagree with this sentiment. He may be the person in my life who more often than not gets stuff I think he needs or would like, but those things miraculously end up in my possession; most recently, a Salmon Creek Farm Tee and Cotapaxi fanny pack.
This birthday would be different. I would get exactly what he wanted. The item in question? “A nice set of juggling balls.” He (nerd) then referred me to our friend Molly who has a passion for juggling (I once ran a half marathon with her, and as I shuffled my feet, red-faced, gasping for breaths, she leisurely juggled the 13.1 miles).
About 2 weeks before said birthday, I sent Molly a text inquiring where one buys good juggling balls. Little did I know my brain was about to be blown and introduced to the niche world of juggling. Due to the insanity of it all, I took screenshots of our conversation to share for prosperity.
