My dad likes to give me stuff. He's always been generous with me, even when he didn't have much money to be generous with. A funny thing about his generosity is that he gives me things he likes. I'm not trying to sound picky, honestly, because at this point in my life, my husband's money buys me everything I need and almost everything I want, so I can accept my dad's gifts knowing he's saying "I love you." For instance, last time I was visiting, my dad wanted to loan me one of his robes. So he did. Then he offered to let me keep the robe. I said thanks but no, since I was flying, and had nowhere to put a terrycloth robe. Also, I already had two robes. I think he decided that I didn't like that particular robe, so every day he'd pull out another one to loan me, suggesting that maybe I'd like this one better. Over the course of my visit, I borrowed four different cream-colored, 3/4 length sleeved, knee length men's bathrobes all stolen from various hotels. I could tell my dad REALLY wanted me to take one, so finally, I said I'd like the last one he had offered me. I couldn't fit it into my suitcase, obviously, so he said he'd have my mom ship it. I get home. My dad calls a few days later. It turns out, I'd chosen his favorite bathrobe, and could I possibly settle for one of the others?
What made me think of this funny quirk of his is that I was just cleaning off my desk, and came across an old passbook. Long ago, my parents gave me an extra checking account that came with their premiere account. Recently--prepare to be shocked--my dad asked for it back. Anyway, the checkbook had a soft leather cover on it that my dad had gotten in the mail from the bank, and offered to me. I could tell that later he regretted giving it to me, because he kept saying things like, "If you're not gonna use that, I will," and "That's a really nice checkbook cover, I know I'd like to have it." Now that the account is closed, I'm going to give it back to him when I visit in a couple weeks. I know he'd like to have it.