My ex gave me an Iron.
A bit of forethought that time; normally, he'd leap out of bed when he clocked it was my birthday or even Christmas? perhaps the landline calls (before mobiles) wishing me a happy birthday activated his one, remaining brain cell. He'd return from the corner newsagent and present me with a pack of Sweets and top shelf Magazine - I would Chuck latter at him but he'd just add to his collection; probably because pictures and didn’t require comprehension or ability to read.