Rabbit Box Blog

Grandpa Nelson were notoriously difficult to please when it came to gifts. 

Even the most thoughtfully selected gift would often be met with an exclamation that everyone in the family came to dread, because almost all of us heard it around Christmas and birthdays:

“Well, whudja get me that fur?!”

I especially remember one Christmas when Uncle Harold was on the receiving end of an extended diatribe. He had bought Nelson a very complete electric drill set, with every attachment he could ever need, arranged in a nice carrying case. But Nelson immediately saw a flaw.

“Whudja get me that fur?” he exclaimed. Harold was obviously hurt, but he also looked confused. He began to point out what a nice drill it was, along with all the various attachments. But Nelson would have none of it.

“Now, if it was a 1/2 inch or even a 3/8 inch drill, you might have something,” he said, “but this is just a puny little 1/4 inch! What am I going to do with a 1/4 inch drill?”

Now Nelson was never one for major engine overhauls or other large projects—he had five sons and a few grandsons who took care of the big stuff, especially by this time in his life, probably over 70 (I don’t remember exactly). Harold had picked a small drill that had plenty of power for any job Nelson was likely to take on, but was light enough for him to handle easily.

Harold put up a few more feeble defenses, but soon he gave up and accepted the tongue-lashing. 

With this kind of family history, one Christmas several of the children decided to outsmart the old curmudgeon. I know Harold, Ray, and Mom were among the group. There may have been more.

They decided to get Nelson a new shirt. But what kind, color, size, etc.? Somebody mentioned that Nelson almost always wore a particular flannel shirt. Why not get him another one like it, especially since it was looking a little worn. With Grandma Estie’s help, they got access to Nelson’s closet when he wasn’t home and the flannel shirt was.

Aunt Jane in those days ran a clothing store, so she helped find the right brand, size, and even color.

Confident in their purchase, they proudly presented the gift-wrapped shirt to Nelson on Christmas and waited for the thanks.

“Whudja get me that fur!?” came the almost immediate response when Nelson unwrapped the shirt.

“Well, Pop, we just got you one like your favorite!” one of them said. “You wear it all the time, so we knew it’s your favorite.”

“You know, I’ve never cared for that shirt. In fact, I hate it.” Nelson said. “I wear it so much to try and wear it out so I could get shed of it. Now I’ve got to start all over wearing this one out!”