Dad: Nice hat.
A.: Thank you. I brought it back from Cambodia.
Mom: I'd love a had like that. Why didn't you bring me a hat like that? Or anything, for that matter? You have parents, you know, and a mother among them. Is it too much to ask to bring us things when you travel? Would it have been so hard to bring back another hat?
Actually, it would have been hard to bring back another hat, but I would have attempted it had I known mom would want one. And I did bring my parents coffee from Cambodia. But the broader answer to why I didn't bring my parents much from the trip lies in the history of my bringing things back for my parents from trips.
Every time I did bring mom something, she complained about it. A lot, relentlessly, and for a long time. Years later, she would point out that thing I brought her from somewhere or other that she really can't stand but won't get rid of because I brought it. Even though she doesn't have room for it (but she does have room for the entire contents of the dollar store). She did at one point say that I have such terrible taste, I really should just stop bringing her things from my travels. I don't remember what brought that about. I do recall that she complained that the jade carving I brought her from New Zealand looked like a gravestone, but I don't think that was the source of the 'just don't bring us anything comment.' I took her at her word. Except for the coffee, because I thought dad might like it.
This treatment isn't reserved for me; she berated Nina's dad (her best friend from childhood) about a wooden carving he'd brought her from Georgia; it was hideous, she said, and didn't match her decor. Dad and I loved it, hung it up anyway. She--even before she started losing her memory--forgot where it came from and included it in one of her rants about how everything nice in the house is because she acquired it.
And that is why I didn't bring mom any hats, or anything else, from Southeast Asia.
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