What Sad Children?

Starting with the various bridal showers, through a few weeks after the wedding, boxes appeared on the front porch containing unknown gifts of wondrous magic and joy. There was always a bit of excitement, as we wondered what could possibly be in each box, because these brown boxes were somehow different from the ones that sadden children. We would bring them into the living room and have a great opening ceremony. However, if it was something we wanted, we already knew what it was. And if it was a surprise, it could be an unpleasant one, that is, something we didn’t want, as indicated by our registry.

The surprises came from those who believe they have superior taste, and those of superior taste believe only they know where it exists. Therefore they seek it, and purchase it, at places they don’t want you to find. Their competitive advantage, in the taste department, must be protected at all costs. These gifts don’t have gift receipts or distinguishing features, such as bar codes, just the piece itself, which is sold only by select retailers in remote places where tasteful people go on secret taste-enhancing vacations.

So, as we sat on the living room floor, one of the following reactions occurred when each box was opened:

“Hey, I remember registering for that.”

Or “Sweet Lord, where did that come from? Is that a monogrammed hand-glazed potato-peeling bowl?”

My advice is to register only for gift cards and cash. No boxes to deal with, no risk of sad children, no muted reaction to opening the gift you knew you were getting. Instead, you get to dream about everything you could get and not be stuck with last season’s furnishings. You can put your whole wedding’s haul right in your pocket and shop until it hurts. Unfortunately, this may encourage the volunteer taste police to take even greater pity on you, as you are apparently incapable of determining anything desirable on your own.
- Drew Lloyd
From "Will You?" to "I Do.": A Groom's Tale of Survival