Admit it. At some point on your life, you’ve bought something for someone else not because you think they’ll like it, but because you like it. For example, I was once given a bracelet. I won’t give details of its appearance in case the gifter recognises it and is mortally offended, so suffice to say that it was not something that I ever planned to wear. I could only assume that it was in the giver’s taste, and they thought (incorrectly) that I would share their enthusiasm. In this case, I thought it best to apply the old ‘it’s the thought that counts’ philosophy, and say nothing more about it.

Of course sometimes people go one step further. They don’t just buy a gift that they like, but a gift that they themselves plan to use. Take, for instance, my brother. Years ago he discovered Coldplay and decided that he loved them. Fair enough: I myself like their music. But when it came to Dad’s birthday, my dear brother decided to buy Dad the band’s first album. I was skeptical of this choice: Dad had never expressed an interest in Coldplay, and as his musical taste was firmly rooted in seventies rock (Rush, Dire Straits and Steely Dan prominently featured), I doubted he’d like it much.

I needn’t have worried. The day after giving dad his present, my brother ‘borrowed’ the CD, and I don’t think Dad has seen it since (though I remember it being played on the car once, and dad asked if this was his birthday present. My brother said, without any hesitation or shame, that it was, and continued with his air-drumming).

The third category of mis-gift-giving (yeah that’s right. Two hyphens.) is the things you buy for others and then accidentally use, only to find that it’s actually pretty cool. For me, this wasn’t been a huge problem until I got married. When you’re married you share each other’s stuff all the time. We’re always playing each other’s games, listening to each other’s music, spending each others money (though for this last one we have a joint account to save on squabbles!). I hasten to add that we draw the line at clothes, though occasionally our socks do wander to one another’s drawers (and yes, I realise how that sounds). In the case of music and other media, this often leads to interesting discoveries, and as you find things you have shared interest in, the strength of your bond increases.

But the one I didn’t see coming was baby stuff. When you have a baby, and she starts getting properly involved with her toys and different foods, your own world is opened up to a whole new realm of possibility. At dinner time today, I gave my daughter a ‘Farley’s rusk’, which I’d never heard of before – I’d just seen it on the shelf at the shops and thought it might be good for her to try. While she was eating I thought I might try a bit myself.

Man alive. Taste explosion in my mouth. I ate the whole thing.

It’s the same with toys. When anyone sees the toys they used to play with, they immediately get stuck in. ‘Aw man, remember these blocks? I’d play with them for hours.’ ‘Big Big Loader! Brilliant!’ Or the classic: ‘Lego/train set/ Meccano. I MUST BUILD.’

Why do we act this way? Is it simply nostalgia? Is it the pretty colours? Or are we transported back to a simpler time, where you’re actually encouraged to play for hours on end, and imagination reigns supreme?

Who knows. But it’s pretty damn awesome.

Even the toys that aren’t exactly what I’d choose, I find myself fiddling with. My daughter got given a musical dog for Christmas. It has buttons on its paws and tummy which light up and makes it sing songs. The voice is irritating and the eyes are freaky as – features that clearly don’t matter to my daughter, but make me reluctant to play with it myself (apart from the obvious being-decades-out-of-the-target-age-group thing). Anyway, the other day my daughter was playing with it, and it sang a song I hadn’t heard it do before. So what did I do when the baby fell asleep? That’s right. I pushed those buttons until that weirdo sang me the entire playlist. No combination can escape me!

Even clothes have this effect, though not in quite the same way (I’m no genius, but I can tell trying on 6-9 month size leggings would be a serious mistake). I’ve never been a ‘girly girl’, or a big follower of fashion, or even a small one. But still, I love dressing my daughter. It isn’t like she’s a doll, or I’m somehow making up for my years and years of boring jeans-and-t-shirt scruffiness. It’s just nice. Thanks to our generous friends and family, she has loads of lovely new clothes. And I have fun putting her in them. I even have a few ‘favourite outfits’ I like laying out for her. Messy mealtime? No worries, I have a dress in reserve. And when she gets too big? Excitement! A whole new wardrobe awaits.

So here’s a piece of advice. You can’t do much about the clothes or the food (well I suppose you could, but it would be weird), but please, for the good of your future enjoyment, don’t throw out the Lego. Such things are timeless, and in today’s world, we could all do with escaping for a few hours and becoming children once more.