On my 15th birthday, Dad had a great idea, he got us a ping pong table. At the time, I thought it was pretty lame. He brought it home in a box and insisted that I help put it together. We clowned around while building it and I remember it being fun, rather than a chore.
After we had it assembled, I found out that my Dad was pretty darned good at ping pong! He learned to play while he was in the Navy. His paddle had no cushion and was covered in sandpaper. If he barely tapped the ball, it shot away like a rocket. He taught me about putting spin on the ball to make it curve...basically like he had taught me about "English" on pool balls. He showed me how to stand up the other side of the table to practice and hone my skills. It took a while before I could even compete with him, but I got there.
Every night when he got home from work, he would scarf some dinner and we played ping pong until I had to go to bed. We both had a great time talking trash and spending time together. I didn't realize that our time together was actually his gift. He didn't bring his work home or the problems associated, he came home and had fun with me. That ping pong table wasn't an expensive gift but it was one of the best I ever received!