If aliens descended on our planet on Father’s Day morning, they would wonder what kind of strange civilization honors its patriarchs with automated tie racks, golf ball washers and valet charging stations.

Every year when I start to feel guilty that I have no idea what to get for Father’s Day, I simply take one look at a sales circular from any retailer to know that I am not alone. It’s the saddest gift selection since Lincoln’s birthday.

At least on Mother’s Day, our traditional gifts range from bath salts to a gift certificate for a pedicure. I feel sorry for all of the men out there who don’t particularly like rolling their own quarters or embossing golf balls.

Logic should have it the opposite way, wouldn’t it? We women who traditionally like to shop should be really good at choosing the perfect gifts for our male mates. And yet we continue to choose from the same stocking stuffer table that didn’t sell at Christmas. Tired gadgets that no one--including men--care about.

Never once has my husband wanted to separate his sock drawer with an organizer, yet it’s on sale this week. The words, “You know, I do like the convenience and relative low cost of beer available at the grocery store, but it sure would be great to try a really expensive, horribly-tasting, potentially-lethal home brew with a package of yeast and a plastic barrel shaped like a football on the weekend,” have never been uttered in our home. And yet these are at the top of the Father’s Day gift guides every year.

At this point in the game, I feel like when my husband needs a new a razor, he should just be able to go out and buy that item for himself and not wait until the next holiday. So on these parental gift occasions my husband and I exchange simply for the benefit of the kids because nothing says “You’re a great Dad!” better than a metal detector or a monogrammed money clip.

So aliens standing at the windowsill laughing, could we perhaps import some curios from your side of the universe? Because I honestly have no earthly idea what to get for Father’s Day.

©2010 Tracey Henry

Divamail me!