I married into a group of incredibly creative people.
When Deus Ex Machina and I were heading out the door on our way to Rockland for our honeymoon, his mom handed us a picnic basket. It was a long drive, and it didn't seem odd or abnormal. I figured she'd packed us a lunch ... although the drive wasn't that long, and we'd just eaten, and she had been with us for the past several hours (for our sunrise wedding followed by the breakfast reception at a local diner). I wondered, briefly, when she'd had time to pack it.
What I didn't realize was that it was a romantic picnic basket, and rather than food, it was filled with "honeymoon" stuff - lingerie, scented oils, some candles, some flourescent body paint ....
I didn't know his mother very well, and at first I was a little bit embarrassed, which was actually kind of funny. Both Deus Ex Machina and I were college-educated adults in our late twenties by the time we decided to tie the knot, and it was silly that I was being prudish.
Then, I understood that she saw me as an adult woman, a peer, who was marrying her son, whom she saw as not her "child", but as a mature, intelligent young man. I realized that her gift was a compliment. I was flattered.
We still have the picnic basket, although these days, when we use it, the contents is more of what one would expect. After a decade and a half of wedded bliss and a cross-country move, most of what was in the basket on that first day is no longer with us (although we still have the Tarzan and Jane underwear ;).
If I didn't want to keep the basket, it would be a fun "recycled" gift for our annual family Yankee swap.
But I'd probably not spice it up the way she did when she first gave it to us ;).