A Hamper Needs No Explanation

But I'm explaining it anyway.

When I was a kid we'd occasionally get hampers during the holiday periods. They always fascinated me, those pyramids of decadence topped with liquor and a ribbon.

Like trophies that celebrate my mother's good work, they are a symbol of her achievements. They are her provision of excess, excess to be shared with friends and family when we happily sit around the hamper and rip it open.

My mother doesn't know this but I tell people that I'd be content with myself if I can do half of what she has achieved. This hamper is my small provision of excess to friends and family. More importantly this hamper is me, tracing and chasing after my mother's giant footsteps.

Anyone'd like a Kit Kat?