The holiday gift exchange—a time-honored tradition of swapping trinkets, treasures, and (let’s be honest) underwhelming surprises. Every year, we put on ugly sweaters, gather in living rooms, workplaces, and church basements to play elaborate war games under the guise of “fun.” But the truth is, it’s really — and subversively — about not having to buy dozens of gifts while competing for that one cool gift worth having, or simply satisfying the urge to re-gift things we didn’t want last year.
At my family gatherings, the festivities also include the annual Elf vs. A Christmas Story debate. Happily, they have learned not to get me started because I will forever break the tie by insisting on Die Hard.
Secret Santa? Never secret. We all pick a name from a hat, hoping we don’t draw the intern we’ve only met twice (and still call “Hey —um, …Dude”) or Aunt Karen who is a vegan and only wears purple. This ritual has us scrambling to find the perfect gift — something nice but not too personal, clever but not too expensive. And, just like that, we’re all in the seasonal aisle at Walmart at 10pm, convinced somehow that a bath bomb set or novelty socks can convey just the right sentiment. Spoiler: They can’t; they’ve both functionally evolved into the fruitcakes of gift giving.
And then there’s White Elephant, where the real games begin. The rules say everyone brings a gift of similar value, but “value” can be, let’s say, flexible. In one corner, you have the awesome friend who brought a bluetooth shower speaker that’s actually nice. In the other, you’ve got the jokester who still thinks a toilet-shaped coffee mug will be the hit of the party.
Full transparency: Poppy was the one who brought bacon-flavored toothpaste to the office Christmas party in 2022. Spoiler alert 2 — it really *is* more satisfying to bring something a recipient will smile at and happily raise to the room as if he or she just unwrapped baby Simba.
Anyway, here’s where it gets serious. The shower speaker is now the most coveted item in the room, and everyone’s suddenly strategizing. People are throwing down steals like they are James Woods at a poker table, risking friendships for a chance to swipe that one good gift.
This year it’s the retractable ratchet straps or a puffy shopper bag. Suddenly, every man in the room is in stealth mode, calculating moves like John Connor. Women are forming alliances in the name of “the good gift” and long-game planning to ensure the coveted gifts don’t end up with cousin Jimmy, who’s notorious for hoarding the best loot, or worse yet, one of the senior set who will definitely be clueless about its value.
Let’s not forget the scratch-offs. The ultimate *I kinda tried but not really* gift. There’s always one in every holiday exchange, brought by that relative or coworker who knows he had to bring something but didn’t want to break a sweat over it. It’s the gift equivalent of a shrug: ‘Maybe you’ll win, maybe you won’t. It’s out of my hands.’
The tickets do spark a flurry of hopeful scratching but also not a little internal monologuing about “I’m going to get so drunk if I gave away a $100,000 ticket as a joke gift.” Fortunately, that’s generally as likely as a politics-free turkey dinner. But hey, nothing says ‘holiday cheer’ like the thrill of going home with… two dollars and a pocketful of silver flakes.
Let’s not forget the man-favored Secret Santa strategy: get a gift card, call it good, and avoid any emotional risk. No heart-wrenching decisions between “Will he use a power bank?” or “Maybe he likes hot sauces?” Just a clean, no-nonsense gift card to Home Depot or a fishing store, and everyone’s satisfied.
By the end, most of us end up with something mildly useful or entirely regrettable. But we all go home with the mirthful glow knowing we spent the evening plotting against family and friends in the name of seasonal cheer. Because really, what better way to justify ruthless competition than calling it a “holiday tradition”?
In the end, holiday gift exchanges are just like sports — victory, strategy, and the occasional disappointment. And hey, if all else fails, I can always trade up during next year’s Secret Santa.