Mug

If you've got kids or nieces or nephews or you've been around small children - say between a year and eighteen months old - at Christmas, then you'll be familiar with the phenomenon whereby they open their first present, are delighted by it and, understandably, want to play with it there and then. Except, they aren't allowed to; everyone encourages them to open their next present. (And then, having taught this behaviour, we're surprised that a few years later we're telling them to slow down as they lay waste to the presents their friends have brought to their birthday party.)

I remember thinking when my children were smaller and were given an embarrassment of presents, that it would be nicer to just given them a present a day until the pile had disappeared, so each one could be cherished and enjoyed, not lost in that well-lntentioned tsunami of gifts.

Even now, I find Christmas and birthdays a bit overwhelming. When there are lots of presents it's difficult to give each one the attention that it deserves. Sometimes, days or even weeks later, I'll feel a surge of gratitude for something and then feel bad for not saying a bigger thank you at the time it was given to me.

This morning, I made coffee for me and Dan. I have a little coffee making ritual and I often give him his in either a Batman or an Iron Man mug. I usually have my first cup in a huge mug I picked up a few years ago and then my second one, the one I have with Dan, in a mug that the Minx painted for me. That mug wasn't clean, this morning, though, so I got down this one, which Dan gave me for my birthday (or maybe Christmas).

I remember at the time asking him how he'd done it, i.e. managed to to get the Fender logo without the 'd' and with the extra 'n', and he said he'd done it using Microsoft Paint, which made me laugh at the time, not least because he'd used a tool which is often used as the butt of jokes and done a perfect job.

As I got it down, I felt a sentimental rush, and that second, more deep-rooted wave of gratitude for a gift that someone has put some thought and effort into. And so it was that my tousle-haired, sleepy teenage boy was surprised to be woken by me this morning thanking him once again for my mug.