Ungrateful

I have received a gift that I do not want or need. It arrived in two boxes, swaddled in finely patterned tissue, bubble wrap and Styrofoam. It spite of the careful and excessive packaging, the retail price was still stuck to its bottom, inviting thoughts of all the other things that could have been done with the money and the hope that it was bought on sale. The object is fragile and pretends to be useful, although it really isn't, and somehow that makes it worse than something purely decorative. The best thing about it is that it is not very large. I can picture the moment this gift was purchased, the delight on the customer's face. I like to imagine that the gift inspired thoughts of me as I was in elementary school, or perhaps a vision of a dream home occupied by the person I should have grown up to be. Still, there is no evidence that the person who bought it for me was actually thinking of me--a nearly 40-year-old woman living in a small apartment who has never in her adult life expressed a desire for old fashioned knick knacks--when selecting this gift.

What will I do with this object? It seems crass to sell it and thoughtless to re-gift it. The best possible thing I can imagine is for me to accidentally break it. That way, I can throw it away with little regret. But since I can't plan to accidentally break it, I am condemned to own it until I lose or break it naturally.

And so, even though I love the person who sent this Christmas gift to me, I am ungrateful.