The rubber chicken chosen as a sibling gift one long-ago Christmas is still at home, even as both the giver and recipient have grown up - and moved on.

CLEVELAND -- He thoughtfully surveyed the toy aisle options. All of 7 years old, he had already selected lip gloss for his 12-year-old sister and a new Barbie doll outfit for his 3-year-old sister. But now, what to buy for his 10-year-old brother?

It was December 2007. The children wanted to buy gifts for one another. My husband Kevin and I agreed, but we set a threshold of $3 to $5 per gift to reinforce the idea that gifts need not be expensive to be thoughtful. And, since children didn’t receive allowances, we were bankrolling this project. So, to the local drug store we went in search of “sibling” Christmas presents.

As my second-grader studied the array before him, I offered suggestions. A deck of cards? Paper football? Maybe a super ball? How about a new Hot Wheels car?

Paper football got a tepid response, but every other suggestion was met with a shake of the head. Not what he had in mind.

Then his eyes lit up, and he grinned. He had spotted the perfect gift. He plucked it from the rack and held it up excitedly. “This!” he proclaimed.

The selection baffled me. As gently as possible, I asked, “Are you sure? I mean, what will he do with that?”

My third child stared in disbelief.

“It’s a RUBBER CHICKEN!” he proclaimed, as though the mere utterance of the words lent credibility to the object itself.

The significance was still lost on me. But it was almost bedtime on a school night. My son was happy, and I was tired. The cashier bagged the lip gloss, Barbie outfit, and rubber chicken, and we headed home.

A few days later, on Christmas morning, sibling gift-opening commenced. The younger brother could hardly contain his excitement. But what if his older brother’s reaction was like mine?

I needn’t have worried. Upon tearing off the paper, big brother exclaimed, “A rubber chicken! So cool!” Heartfelt “thank-you’s” were exchanged, and younger brother basked in the glow.

A few years later, older brother returned the favor and bought younger brother a rubber rat as a variation on the rubber chicken theme. I failed to see the allure of either, but the rat was considerably creepier than the chicken.

Younger brother recently came across the rubber chicken while packing up his belongings in advance of a move to Chicago for his first post-college job. We had a good laugh reminiscing about his gleeful purchase.

Then I advised, “Keep that in the room. I’m saving it for the grandchildren.”

“Yes, Mom – for those ‘grandchildren.’ "

We don’t have grandchildren yet. No one is even married. So, the children tease me when I lay out “grandchildren” plans. They don’t realize that this future planning makes it a little easier to bear the loss of what I once had – those days of yore when all my chicks were in the nest.

Mary Cay Doherty is a community member of The Plain Dealer and cleveland.com editorial board.

I tried to help this third child sort treasures from trash as he packed for Chicago and dismantled his childhood room. But I spent more time reminiscing and crying than packing. For me, everything was treasure.

We knew these days were coming, my husband and I. We are proud of our young adults and excited for all the future holds. We have a teacher, a Navy officer, and now, an accountant. In a few short years, our baby will graduate from college and officially begin her adult life, too. But still, every now and then, I wish we could rewind the clock to relive some especially memorable moments. Rubber-chicken shopping with that 7-year-old boy would most certainly make the list.

Mary Cay Doherty is a community member of the editorial board of The Plain Dealer and cleveland.com.

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