When I was home for Thanksgiving, my mom offered me a small white box with Japanese writing on the side—as if she was presenting me with my dowry. Inside was a toothpaste squeezer. “Your dad and I each have one,” she told me. “It’s incredible.”
You know the feeling—when you find, whether by chance or after extensive research, a product that changes your life. Whether it’s a pair of kitchen tongs, or a good travel mug, or a perfectly inky ballpoint pen, there are certain things that, once they become part of your routine, you can’t imagine doing without them. These objects aren’t necessarily fancy or stylish, but they do their job well, and they make life a little smoother. Or at the very least, they save you a few dollars on toothpaste. Over a lifetime of use, but still.
When you do find these life-changing products, the first thing you want to do is share them. So, in putting together the first ever Free Press Gift Guide, we asked a bunch of Free Pressers to do just that. Instead of bombarding you with suggestions for forgettable stocking stuffers or accessories that will be out of style by the spring, we’re here to change lives.
Sure, when they first get that toothpaste squeezer, it might be a little underwhelming. But take it from me, ever since my days of wrestling the last dregs of Arm & Hammer Advance White from its mangled tube ended, I, too, have been a Japanese toothpaste-squeezer evangelist, thanking my mother for the best gift of the season. Happy holiday shopping!
Joe Nocera, our deputy managing editor, reveals the best gift he ever got for his wife.
She is not a light packer. Let’s start there. The night before we go on vacation, I pull down the suitcases, and we start putting things in. I’m done in about 10 minutes because, well, I’m a guy. Because my wife is not a guy, and also because she is more thoughtful than me, her suitcase will invariably be stuffed with all sorts of wonderful things like champagne to give to whomever we’re visiting, as well as enough clothes to change three times a day. Plus, some of our son’s clothes, although I’ll never understand why, since he has his own suitcase.
Then we get to the airport. You know the drill, right? Her suitcase goes up on the scale at the airline counter. It’s 54 or 56 or even (shudder!) 58 pounds. Rather than pay the extra fee for an overweight suitcase, she puts the suitcase on the floor and begins frantically taking out things and putting them in her purse to carry on (or in my underweight suitcase, dammit). I’m getting antsy. The attendant looks annoyed. Our son is really annoyed. She and I then snipe at each other all the way to the gate. Not a great way to start a vacation.
Two Christmases ago, I found the solution. I bought her a portable luggage scale. It looks sorta like a corkscrew, except it has a hook you use to lift the suitcase, while a digital display tells you how much it weighs. It cost $9.00, yet I have never seen her so happy to get a present. I have never been so happy to give one. Checking in at the airport has never been the same. Thank goodness.