Money. Not gift cards, not ‘you’ll take me out for a fancy lunch’, not ‘I’ll buy you something off your Amazon wishlist’. Money. Cold, physical currency.

Why? Parents and relatives are denser than a concrete bomb shelter. I don’t want furniture, I don’t want games, I don’t want gift certificates. If I want something, I’ll buy it myself. And for my ‘splurge’ list, you know what, sure mom. I want an XL David from Bad Dragon, in natural colors, and in a soft+medium firmness. And, because I want to feel like I am being spitroasted, a small Flint, in natural, and soft. I do need to work on my gag reflex. Oh, you’ll just give me cash? Okay then. Don’t open any package addressed to me, mmkay?