It's become a tradition at work to put some sort of spin on our holiday gift exchange. Last year we had to bring a gift that began with the same letter as our name. This year we were supposed to bring a gift that we would NOT want to receive, but that other people would. For example, I hate chocolate-covered cherries, but to most people they are a treat, so I could bring those. (I didn't bring that, though. I brought a gift certificate to this place, which I loathe but most people love.) It was actually a really fun gift exchange, because we all learned very idiosyncratic things about each other.

It was also hilarious to see people fighting over something that another person hates. One man's trash really is another man's treasure. And as it turned out, this became a mini-theme of our Christmas.

Rob and I were struggling with what to buy his grandfather. It didn't need to be much, but we needed something, and we had no ideas whatsoever. The gift I got at the work party was peanut brittle. I like peanut brittle just fine, but with all the Christmas cookies in the house, I knew it was something we didn't need to be eating. So I suggested to Rob that we give the peanut brittle to his granddad. It was packaged in a nice gift box and everything. We don't usually regift, but we were desperate. Rob agreed that would be a good gift, but I started to worry that it was a bad idea. What if his granddad doesn't like peanut brittle? What if he's allergic to peanuts? Could he eat it with false teeth? (Does he even have false teeth?) I nagged Rob to call his parents and find these things out, but he never did.

About the same time, one of the gifts I had ordered for Rob's sister fell through and we needed something to replace it. Again, we didn't really have any ideas and were running out of time. Then, on the last workday before Christmas, Rob brought home a Moleskine notebook that someone at work had given him. As nice as it was, neither of us really had a use for it. So Rob suggested we give it to his sister. It seemed to fit her.

So, Christmas Day. We had lunch with some of Rob's family, and at this event we gave his grandparents their gifts. I nervously watched as his granddad opened the peanut brittle. When he saw what it was, his face lit up. He smiled and turned to us, saying, "I'm not sharing any of this! Peanut brittle is my favorite."

And then later in the day, we were exchanging gifts with Rob's immediate family. When his sister unwrapped the notebook, she said to her husband, "Oh look! It's one of those notebooks like we were admiring!"

We totally lucked out. Either that or Santa worked a little magic.