I’m not a millennial; I don’t speak in emojis and I don’t text all that much.
I grew up in a time when we ate gluten for breakfast, actually left the house to play outside without using any (SPF what?) sunscreen while dodging lawn darts and riding bicycles without a helmet.
I am the world’s worst gift giver. Seriously, you could tell me exactly what you want, describe it in detail, give me a picture and exact instructions where to get said time, and I would still end up gifting you something like a Ronco Pocket Fisherman.
You don’t buy a pickup truck because you want to have a comfortable luxury vehicle that will float over potholes and only just deliver a week’s worth of groceries or the kids to soccer practice.