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My grandmother had a no-fuss method of tackling Christmas gifts for her extensive brood of descendents. She sorted us into broad categories (female, male, adult, child) and then bought multiple copies of the same gift for each grouping. Red ties for all the adult males, say, and matching necklaces for the female children. One year, I received a floor-length, red-plaid flannel nightie. At 7, I didn’t mind the Boudoir-Secrets-of-the-FLDS vibe—but I suspect my 20-year-old cousin felt differently.

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