If you follow my blog, you know that I enjoy sharing my sense of humor with the people in my life. Whether at work or home, I believe there’s almost always room for laughter—not as a distraction from what matters but as a way to stay connected to it.
That belief is why every Christmas I give gag gifts to everyone in my family.
It didn’t start as a grand plan or a carefully designed tradition. It started simply, with the joy of making people I love laugh. Over time, I realized those moments were doing more than lightening the mood. They were creating connection and reinforcing belonging.
For me, gag gifts are more than the gifts themselves. They’re also about the build-up when I share a brief story about the gift without disclosing what it is. I love the pause before my family member opens it, the quick look around the room, and the laughter that follows—and often lingers longer than anyone expects. Those moments have a way of pulling people closer together.
What I’ve noticed over the years is that the best gag gifts come from paying attention. I notice something small months earlier—a passing comment, a subtle habit, a detail others might overlook. Then I remember it.. And eventually, it turns into a moment that quietly says, I see you.
And when moments like that repeat, year after year, they begin to matter in a different way. Small traditions have a way of compounding. What starts as a simple laugh slowly becomes part of our family culture—something we expect, remember, and carry forward as we reminisce about past gift exchanges.
That idea extends well beyond family gatherings.
Never miss a post about leadership, transparency, and trust by signing up for my weekly mailing list, delivered right to your inbox. Sign up here.
As leaders, we tend to focus on plans, results, and decisions. All of that matters. But culture isn’t built via presentations or spreadsheets; it’s built in everyday moments that tell people whether they belong.
It’s been said that people don’t remember most of what we say. They remember how we make them feel. They remember whether they felt included and respected—or overlooked and unsure.
Humor, when it comes from a place of care, has a unique ability to create that sense of belonging. It lowers defenses. It invites people to exhale. It reminds us that even in serious work—and especially in difficult seasons—we’re allowed to be human.
Every family, every team, every organization has moments—often unspoken—that signal who’s in and who’s still finding their footing. Those moments don’t need to be formal or orchestrated. But they should reflect the culture you actually want to create.
For me, gag gifts became a simple expression of care. They’re a way to say, “You’re in the know” or “You’re part of us,” without calling attention to it or making a big deal out of it. Just a small moment that carries more meaning than it appears.
Belonging doesn’t come from titles or roles in an org chart. It comes from paying attention, creating shared experiences, and using moments—sometimes lighter ones—to bring people together.
