The perfect gift for: Your mom
What you’re really saying: “Your new boyfriend is not my dad and I’m going to make things very difficult for you.”
The perfect gift for: Your absent father
What you’re really saying: “See what happens when you ignore your kid?”
The perfect gift for: Your boyfriend
What you’re really saying: “You’re always late, and I have other options.”
The perfect gift for: Your daughter
What you’re really saying: “Stop complaining about your school.”
My Friend Dahmer, by Derf Backderf
The perfect gift for: Your son
What you’re really saying: “Your current friend is not good. I would like you to find a new friend.”
Capital in the Twenty-First Century, by Thomas Picketty
The perfect gift for: Your Ronald Reagan-worshipping stepbrother
What you’re really saying: “After reading a review of this book, I feel it crystalizes what I meant to say when I called you a fascist last Christmas. I pray to the Goddess that this Frenchman’s words ‘trickle down’ deep into the dark crevasse of your prematurely wizened, capitalism-loving soul.”
The Lucifer Effect, by Philip Zimbardo
The perfect gift for: Your new boss
What you’re really saying: “This new power is going to your head.”
No Exit, by Jean-Paul Sartre
The perfect gift for: You loudmouth coworker
What you’re really saying: “Hell is: other people, generally; you, specifically.”
Life in a Medieval Village, by Frances Gies and Joseph Gies
The perfect gift for: Your new intern
What you’re really saying: “Welcome to my fiefdom, peasant.”
The Crying of Lot 49, by Thomas Pynchon
The perfect gift for: Your mailman
What you’re really saying: “I know you don’t always deliver all of my mail. There are other mail distributors I can use if you don’t give me that Lands’ End catalog back.”
The Yellow Wallpaper, by Charlotte Perkins Gilman
The perfect gift for: Your landlord
What you’re really saying: “Can I paint in here?”
Louisa Hager lives with mice and an aloof rental cat in Bushwick.