As Father's Day approaches, I'm (again) at a total loss as to what my father would appreciate, besides socks, hankerchiefs, and ink for his printer.
My mother? COMPLETELY different story. You see, my mother and I have the same twisted sense of humor. And my mother appreciates the most absurd and eclectic gifts with sustained laughter, resulting in teary-eyes and aching bellies, all around. Half the fun of giving my mother a gift is the sheer joy in talking about its humorous aspects over and over again, sharing gleeful giggles, like naughty schoolchildren. We even used to go "Ugly Shopping" together, in an attempt to locate the most hideous outfit during our spree (which was VERY easy during the 80's). It is this same relationship we had during my youth that drove my father away from the dinner table, to enjoy his dinners in the relative quiet of the living room, while my mother and I cackled excitedly about the latest gross thing we had encountered that day.
But YOUR father may be different, which brings me to one of the greatest gifts I have ever given my mom. I just had to share it with you, in case you are clueless about what to give dear old Dad. It is pictured at the left, and I'll give you a minute to figure out what it is. Oh, you know it. You just can't wrap your brain around it. But you know you've seen it...somewhere...but where?
Yup. One of the great benefits of living in rural Arkansas is that I actually have access to these. Beautifully tanned, hollowed out, still with soft hairs attached, ready to carry your favorite tidbits (much like their previous owner did)!! You got it. It's a purse, made from a bull scrotum. The perfect gift for my mother, and maybe your dad!!
My mother, I might mention, is partially blind due to retinal neuropathy as a result of her diabetes. As you can imagine, when she opened this gift, she had to spend a great deal of time "feeling it," to determine what it might be. We got the greatest laugh, as she recounted to me how my father watched this tactile investigation as she wondered aloud what it could be. He finally had to exclaim (with great disgust, I'm sure - for the daughter who would visit such wrath on his home), "Well, for Chrissakes', Robin, it's BULL TESTICLES!!!"