January 2, 2018  - Gloves

         There was a private joke between my Mom and myself that centered on “gloves” and Christmas presents.

         In the old days – back in the 1970s when I worked as a secretary – it was always a disappointment when it came time for the Company Christmas party and gift opening.  Back then, the usual thing was just after Thanksgiving someone in the office would put everyone’s name in a hat, everyone would pull a name, and gifts would be exchanged on the last day of work before the Christmas holiday.

         My first job, secretary at a surveying firm, had only two women and the rest were men.  It was easy for me that year, I simply purchased a quality flashlight for the fellow male employee and it was much appreciated.

At the time, I was car-pooling with my parents in order to save enough money to buy my first car.  Dad would drop me off at work first, usually with my brown-bag lunch, then continue down several blocks and turn down a side street, drop my Mom off and then he would continue out of town to work. In the evening, I would wait on the office portico and run out to be picked up when I saw Dad’s car a block or two away.

         It is cold in New England and since I was working, I purchased some fine black leather gloves back in November so that I looked like a well-dressed lady.  Obviously, no one at work had noticed.

         “What did you get for your exchange gift?”  My Mom asked casually as I climbed in the backseat of the car.

         “Gloves,” I answered with a sigh.

         “That’s nice.” Mom said with her usual optimism.

         “They are a hideous color.”  I replied.

         Later, at home, Mom agreed they were an awful color and poor quality, but she had an idea.

         “Use them when you are helping Dad shovel snow, that way you will keep your leather gloves nice.”

         So, that is what I did.  I used the hideous gloves for heavy snow work and then would switch to my nice leather gloves for dress.

         Fast forward a year, and the same Company and the same Christmas exchange.  By this time, I owned a car and when I arrived home, my Mom asked,

         “What is your exchange present?”

         “Cheap wool gloves!”  I sighed.

         “Use them when you are cleaning the snow off your car, that way you will keep your leather gloves nice.” Mom suggested.

         The third Christmas I was at a different company and again, the traditional office exchange of gifts.  And, I am sure you can guess what I got that year as well.

         Awful felt gloves.  Always the poorest quality and always am icky color.    Everyone else seemed to get nice gifts, why didn’t I?  Heck, I would have preferred a box of chocolates or even a flashlight compared to gloves.

         The fourth Christmas I arrived home after work and my Mom looked up from preparing dinner.  I simply shook my head. She paused before she asked. 

         “Don’t tell me, gloves again?”

         “Yes!”

         She laughed and her laughter made me smile and eventually laugh with her. 

         “You don’t have to worry about ruining your good gloves when you clean off the snow and ice from your car, now do you?”  She said with an amused smile.