For years I have plagued my mother with half-assed gift cards, junk drawer destined trinkets and overwrought proclamations of love that typically are rushed. While my mom and I talk a lot I never have a solid idea of what she likes or wants which makes gift giving comparable to picking out a shirt after eye surgery. So, for a while, I had no clue what to do.
If there is anything I do well, it’s listen. I like to believe that I can pick up on things which is probably why I felt so natural as a reporter. If you can listen you can ask astute questions. I’ve been listening a lot in the past month and the one thing I kept hearing was my mom asking my dad to fix her hope chest (some people call it a hutch). I had a gift.
What had to be done with the chest was it needed to be sanded, refinished, the hinges needed to be cleaned, a coat of polyurethane applied, and fixing the seat (the seat broke in half). While one of my dad’s friend’s fixed the seat, I did everything else. Here is what everything looked like when it first started:
And here is everything once I did the majority of what I talked about:
And once it was all said and done and semi-dry (I may have rushed taking it home) I threw it in the back of my dad’s truck and brought it home (and I will link to a picture I am using for another post that shows me taking it back – once I write it).
Fast forward to today. I couldn’t get the back of my dad’s gate to go down so I had to wrap the thing in blankets in case of whatever. I woke up at 5:00 a.m. to a rain storm and had to replace the mash up of blankets, towels and and well-placed plastic.
I really wanted to be able to bring it in the house and have it set up when her and my dad got home (they were away at a wedding for the night). Now I’m just waiting for them to come home so I can bring it inside.
I think this might be my most favorite idea for a gift for her.