I thought it was because in the pre-viagra days, oysters were considered a sure-fire potency drug.
Ah. OK. Haven’t eaten oysters in a long, long time. Not since I first saw a woman’s nether regions anyway.
I thought it had more to do with oysters having a reputation for being an aphrodisiac. You are thinking of clams.
See, that’s the problem with the Jews. Some of them look just like you or me.
As mentioned above, oysters are about male stamina and not any resemblence to female anatomy. They are chokablock full of zinc which is needed for the replacement of seminal fluid. So they are entrenched in folklore as a food that will let you keep going and going like the Energizer Bunny.
There are plenty of classical references to oysters as a food that helps keep you up. I’m sure there are earlier referecnes, but I remember it in the Satyricon.
Maybe she thinks that you’re prettier than your sister, and would reap the greatest benefit from said “gifts”? In her own way, it could be her own version of a compliment.
That’s just awesome. <bows>
A lot of these things (makeup, chocolate covered peanuts, flask, alcohol sets, booze) are pretty “traditional gifts”. Things you might even find in a gift shop.
It’s like my Dad thinking I’m insinuating he’s a slob because I got him a tie for Father’s Day. Or your nephew thinking you’re calling him illiterate for getting a pen and pencil set at graduation.
I’d be more offended they didn’t put any thought into it.
Now, if you got a bottle of mouthwash and a comb. . .that’s a whole other thing.
It probably depends heavily on the familiarity you have with the giver and known issues.
For example, the following is not a “condescending gift” it’s just an “I’m a bitch gift”:
My cousin is allergic to most cosmetics. She can’t wear most make-up (even hypo-allergenic stuff has proven to be hit and miss). She wore make-up to her prom night and her eyelids puffed up like she’d been punched. Everyone thought she’d been crying and that her prom date had dumped her.
My aunt, her mom, often nags her, “You’d look so much prettier with some colour.” And then the fight begins. “I can’t wear make-up, it will burn my face!” Then they start bickering, with my aunt acting as if the allergy is somehow negotiable. “You could just wear a little bit,” or “just wear it when you go out”, “just a little on your cheeks.” It is a known, long-standing family fight.
And every Christmas that our families get together for the holidays, it’s guaranteed that I’ll get to watch the same scene: my aunt’s gift to my cousin is cosmetics, my cousin gets pissed.
It has nothing to do with makeup being a traditional gift, like getting a tie for dad or perfume for mom, it’s totally, 100% about being a nasty shrew. It has caused an ugly scene year after year.
If a co-worker who didn’t know any better, got my cousin cosmetics as a gift, I’m sure her response would be gracious. But my aunt buying cosmetics for my cousin has not a shred of goodwill behind it.
It’s actually not true, what they say about oysters. I had a dozen last Saturday, and three of them didn’t work.
My husband’s stepdaughter is one of those people who do seasonal decorations – centerpieces and linens and geegaws for all the holidays, even the ones only Hallmark recognizes.
I don’t decorate. I’ll put up a small prelit tree at Christmas, but that’s about it.
Every Christmas she gives me some Christmas decor – nothing nice like candles though – it’ll be big kitschy stuff like snowmen or reindeer. One year it was a curtain with lights embedded in the fabric. :dubious:
She’s telling me I’ve failed at proper Midwest housewifery because I don’t decorate, and I resent it.
I guess it depends. I’d be pretty happy if someone gave me a package of make up, chocolate and booze. (Though hold the peanuts–I’m not that into them.) Of course, if it was a ten year old bottle of scotch, this would go pretty unappreciated on lil ole me…
Heh. Enough makeup and booze, and you’ll be able to find a man. So the chocolate would be unnecessary.
:::d&r:::
As a man, I hate this crap. Apparently most women are brought up with their relatives telling them (effectively) that they’re ugly and need to cover up their hideous flaws if they ever hope to be liked. I have to spend a long time (subtly and gently) convincing each new girlfriend that she doesn’t have to slather on pounds and pounds of makeup to be attractive to me–I’d much rather see her natural beauty.
The scotch helps too. For that matter, she ought to maximize her advantage by keeping a stash of cigars and back issues of Playboy around the house. A nice red and gold robe would be nice too.
I was a caregiver for my MIL in my home for many years. She weighed twice what I do and it was always a struggle for me to manage. She was entirely bedridden and wore only bed gowns that I had altered so we could get them on with ease.
For Christmas her grown daughter bought her a beautiful new flowery blouse. An expensive garment, no doubt about it.
But there is no way her Mom can wear it unless I alter it radically. Seems a little presumptuous, but I can do that part pretty easy (y’know, if I could find a spare moment). But then what? Am I supposed to wrestle her into this garment for your amusement? 'Cause that isn’t going to happen. Challenging for me, dreadfully uncomfortable for MIL.
And, as if that were not enough, the entire family brought her several boxes of chocolates. Now I get that it’s not easy to find a gift for a bedridden person. But her morbid obesity lead to the stroke that put her in that bed. Boxes and boxes of chocolates? Really?
Apparently, although we were already struggling to manage because of her weight, they thought fielding requests for chocolates, all day every day, would somehow brighten our world.
I was so stunned I couldn’t speak when I saw these gifts.
My father feels I’ve failed at proper housewifery and frequently lets me know - in a very explicit, verbal way and by giving me gifts of things like vacuums and organizational books.
My dad fails to understand that, as a woman who works full time outside of the home and who lives with another fully capable adult (my husband), I am NOT 100% responsible for everything that happens to be left out of place. Hell, even if I didn’t work outside the home, there’s no way in the world my house will be spotless. Especially since we have a toddler who still thinks that the best place for everything he can reach is usually on the floor.
Instead, he seems to be stuck in Leave it to Beaver. This coming from a man whose mom used to iron his underwear and who employs someone to wash his clothes, dishes, clean the house, iron, pick up his cleaning, wait for the repairman, etc., despite the fact that he works part time and claims to be broke. :rolleyes:
Hang in there - maybe you and I can make a bonfire of Christmas tchochkes and organizational books fueled by a vacuum engine.
Posted previously (in the Pit – re; giftcards are evil)