To Regift or Not: A Cautionary Tale

We've all done it, or at least thought about doing it. We've all, whether by time constraints, money matters, or just plain lack of caring, sifted through items in our closets, basements or garages and thought about it. Re-gifting. Often thought about. Sometimes acted upon. Rarely appreciated. Whether it's the bath set given to you by your Aunt Feeney-I mean, seriously, how could she have known that you are allergic to the scent (not to mention garish colors) of "English Garden Bath time"? Or the gift card that the gifter forgot he/she already used $5.29 on.

Here is my terrifying, truthful tale.

I was engaged to be married, and we had decided upon a small, family (think 6 or less guests) gathering in front of the Justice of the Peace. The year before we had stood up for the wedding of our best friends, as Maid of Honor and Best Man. Heady stuff. Heady and expensive. My fiance had shelled out close to 3 grand on a bachelor party, I had ended up with the drink tab at a local comedy club in lieu of a bachelorette party. We had given a generous cash gift on the day of the nuptials. We had, in essence, put more money into the wedding of a friend than we would our own.

As mentioned before, we had decided against the traditional gowned, beribboned, tuxedoed, invite-everyone-you-know-and-their-parents/neighbors/high school football coach. A few days before our wedding my best friend rang up and asked to take me to lunch, seeing that there would be no reception. She wanted to celebrate and she "had something for me". I agreed, with the usual protest, "You shouldn't have, really." And, really? She shouldn't have.

The day arrived and we met at a local eatery to rejoice in the fact that I was "completing the square". Best friends, marrying best friends and all. Heady stuff as I said before. Near the end of our lunch, she produced a somewhat small, square package and handed it to me with a smile and a, "When I saw this, I thought of you." What the box produced was a collectible, ceramic cake topper... for a cake we hadn't, and wouldn't, order. What the box also produced was irrefutable proof that I had been re-gifted by my best friend on this momentous occasion. The proof came in the form of a gift card, not signed by my friend, but her aunt. The wording? "Dear 'my best friend and her husband', may your life ahead know only joy!"

What did I do? What could I do? I gushed, I cried, I hugged my friend as if this was exactly the thing that would cement my marriage, strengthen our friendship and bring peace to my home. Then I left, got in my car and laughed hysterically the whole ride home. My soon to be husband? He didn't quite see the mirth in the gift and life went on.

Flash forward 5-ish years to a "Girl's Night" . Our get togethers were mainly the women from my husband's side of the family. They were a semi frequent chance to get together, catch up and, most importantly, play a game that involved purposely re-gifting each other with the silliest, ugliest stuff we could find from our homes. This is, of course, the only time when re-gifting should be considered acceptable and encouraged. You, by now, have guessed that my first contribution to the game was the cake topper. It, and its accompanying story (complete with card!) brought forth gales of laughter and much merriment. It truly was a gift that kept on giving...even when I wanted it to stop.

Interestingly enough, it again wound up in the "Girl's Night" pile a few years after that, with one notable changed. Over time, accidentally knock overs and bumps, the cheerful, dewy-eyed bride and groom had become separated. This, of course, brought perhaps even more laughter than its original appearance. And, no, it was not a harbinger of marital doom for my husband and myself...but it was for the one who re-gifted it to me.