The Celestial Kingdom has need of nothing

Last night, monshu rang me as I was leaving La Fonda with welcomerain (hint, hint, post something, girlfriend!) and a rather unexpected spookyfruit. He said that my father had called my number, gotten a message saying that the line was being tested, and called him instead. No message, but he wanted me to return the call.

I figured this indicated either (a) a family tragedy or, more likely, (b) my parents were coming up this weekend. (For them, three days notice is about par.) So I had my dinner companions drop me off at monshu's so I could call back. I also figured that my father had managed to lose my new number again after I've given it to him at least three times already. (This didn't prevent him from insisting, when I did call, that I'd never given it to him. Senility starts early in this family; denial begins at birth.)

His Big News was trip-related, but not the way I had anticipated. He asked "What do you want me to bring you back from China?" Holy shit, what don't I want him to bring back? I told him I'd narrow down the options and get back to him.

I consulted with monshu whose response was, "Well, we don't want them to pick out any art." Cruel, yet undeniable. Broken ice pattern window shutters wouldn't fit in a suitcase anyway. How about liquor? I've complained here many a time that Chinese drinking (as opposed to cooking) wines are mysteriously unavailable around here. Plus, they did alright on that score in Greece, bringing back a bottle of superior No. 12 Ouzo (which I finally broke into last weekend in celebration of Nuphy's recovery).

Any suggestions, people?