OK, I've been Christmas shopping

I am not the most joyful giver. There, I said it.
Maybe it is because I am not the most joyful shopper.
My Christmas shopping is unplanned, ill-prepared and involves a significant amount of huddling next to the bicycles and texting grown nephews and nieces to solicit toy preferences and t-shirt sizes of their little darlings.
Is Barbie in? Are Legos out? I can't keep up.
I stuck a Fashionista Barbie in the shopping cart only to have my eyes drawn oddly to her spindly plastic legs. Creepy, creepy knees. Back on the shelf with that one.
And is there honestly anybody in America who believes that brown-haired doll looks like Justin Bieber? Really?
I like to give books. Maybe it's because I love books and think everyone should. Do people read books with real paper pages and not electronic pixels? I do, but who else?
Books are difficult to select for gift giving unless you plan to share a title you've already read or the work of an author you particularly like.
Some book titles turn off my attention. Ever notice how many bibles there are out there? I don't mean King James and New International Version. I'm talking about people billing their books for every imaginable thing as the bible on the subject. This is the recognized bible on getting out of debt, or selecting a new car, or getting your kid into college. No, it isn't. The Bible is the bible. Get your own name.
My shopping isn't finished. I don't know when it will be. But I've pretty much exhausted the toy section with my aversion to creepy doll knees.
And if you are looking for the Biebster in your stocking, I hope you recognize him when you see him.