I was writing a card for someone who had a baby.
I could not care less for these people.
They were rude, selfish and, quite frankly, not particularly fun to be around. I struggled to see the positive outcome of their reproduction. Another person, more than likely, destined to turn out exactly like them.
And yet there I was.
Picking out a gift. Purchasing a card. Wrapping the damn thing.
Trying to think of something nice to write inside a card that nobody was ever going to keep.
It had also been a year of three weddings, three engagements, and all the annual occasions that require the presence of presents.
Congratulations.
So happy for you.
What wonderful news.
None of it was true.
And then the floodgates opened.
What if I could just say what I actually wanted to say?
What if we could address the ungrateful elephant in the room?
What if I put a bow on it?
So here we are.
Designed from my parents’ spare room — which is totally unrelated to my pessimism — Courtesy Dept. exists for all the occasions when a gift is expected, but enthusiasm is not.
Keep it simple.
Keep it blunt.
Keep it ambiguous enough to seem somewhat polite.
Honest gifts for the people that need them.
Courtesy of the Courtesy Dept.