I'm a Maisel, part II

Matt and I have been talking, in a joking fashion, about what exactly it means to be a Maisel, in the general sense. What comes to mind, in the Maisel family, when, say, 'You're such a Maisel!' is said? (if it ever is. This is mostly theoretical, people.)

We decided that the Maisels -- with some exceptions, of course -- are generally two things: Bright and thrifty. Always on the lookout for a good deal. There's also a lazy streak, but it affects some and not others.

I think my favorite Maisel story thus far is about one of Matt's uncles. (his parents both hail from big families) One of his uncles, whose children are now teens, used to buy cans of food for a nickel or a dime each. If a can's label came off, the grocery store would toss the label-less cans in a big shopping cart, and hope folks like Matt's uncle K. would give them at least a few cents for them. Something's better than nothing, I guess. So uncle K. would bring home the can, and they'd open it up and have Mystery Vegetable for dinner. Sometimes the game backfired, and it would be, say, dog food. Legend has it that Uncle K. got so good at this that he could identify the contents of the can before he opened it -- just by weighing it in his hand and shaking it. I hear this story each Thanksgiving, which is the one time of year (except for those years in which Matt and I get married) I usually see the Maisel clan all at the same time.

I recently proposed a plan that Matt considered so impressive, he thought even his dad would find it Maiselish. (his dad is pretty much the ultimate arbiter of things creatively thrifty.) Matt and I were talking about Christmas gifts -- one of our pre-Christmas traditions is turning out to be that we both vow to spend very little on gifts. Considering that, on one Christmas, we were about to buy a house; the next Christmas, we had just bought a house; the next Christmas, we had just gotten married -- it's a good plan, in theory. There are always lots of monetary reasons to take it easy on Christmas presents. But it's a plan that seems to fall along the wayside as the holiday approaches. Matt wants so badly for everyone to "have a good Christmas" -- and, sadly, that seems to translate directly into, "people get lots of money spent on them for gifts" -- that he spends far more than he vowed he would. I admit that I'm not immune to this tendency, myself.

To get back to the story: Matt's mom really likes getting gift cards. Which is fine with us! They're easy to get; she likes them; she loves to shop; she shouldn't be spending her own money; everyone's happy. The downside to gift cards -- if you don't find them a tacky gift in the first place. I know that some do -- is that you can't find, say, a gift on sale, or pretend that it cost anything other than the EXACT DOLLAR AMOUNT that you're giving. Really, you might as well give cash. I suppose you could argue that giving a gift card shows you know where the person likes to shop, so that conveys some thoughtfulness. In any case, as I said, I'm fine with the concept of gift cards. I like to give other things when possible, but sometimes a gift card makes sense.

Earlier this year, Matt's mom received a settlement of sorts, and went hog-wild with spending it. I will say this -- the woman is generous, when she can be. She showered Matt and me with the gifts she probably had wanted to get us for Christmas the previous year, but couldn't afford to. It was fairly ridiculous, all the stuff she gave us.
One thing she gave me was a gift card to a new linens store that opened near us. She wanted me to check it out, and have a little something to spend in there. A very lovely gesture. I never did make it in there, though.
Lo and behold -- this same store appeared on her Christmas gift card wish list. I told Matt about it, and suggested that maybe I should just give her back the card. Did he think she'd notice?

His eyes widened, then a smile crept across his face. Grinning broadly, he said, "Wow. Re-gifting to the ORIGINAL GIVER. That is truly a Maisel move."

Uh, yay for me?