You're meeting a casual friend - an acquaintance, really - for coffee. Outdoors, probably. Minutes in, this person thrusts an unexpected Christmas gift at you.

What do you do?

A) Smile and say thanks.

B) Sputter something about leaving "their" gift at home.

C) Peel off a couple of fives, saying you're giving cash this year.

D) Reach into your purse or pocket and pull out a gaily wrapped gift of your own.

If you answered A, congratulations. You embody the true spirit of Christmas. Skip the rest of this. Nothing here applies to you.

If you answered B, you are a terrible liar and have fooled no one. Nice try.

If you answered C, you are so crass you make the Magi cringe.

If you answered D, you're my hero. And I know exactly who you are.

One of my pals - who threatened to kill me if I revealed her name - told me years ago that the secret to happy holidays is a big purse.

She never leaves home without one. Not in December, anyway.

Buried deep in that bag are several wrapped ornaments.

If you surprise her with a Christmas gift, she'll coolly whip one out for you.

If you don't give her anything, "your" gift stays hidden.

Genius.

By carrying "pocket presents," she's solved one of December's most awkward moments: the unexpected gift.

It happens frequently during Christmas week.

Someone surprises you with a little Yuletide token and there you are, embarrassed, empty-handed and red-faced. You feel thoughtless and cheap and want to drown yourself in the nearest bowl of egg nog.

It's a holiday humiliation.

In a perfect world, no one would regard gift-giving as a burden or a social quid pro quo. But the world is not perfect.

"It's so exhausting," sighed a friend who hadn't heard of pocket presents, but knowing her, she was probably wrapping one by the time we hung up. "You spend so much time at Christmas trying to calculate gifts."

Just call this chronic Christmas malady "gift anxiety."

Here's some cold facts of December:

There's no way to tell who will toss a gift your way. When they do, you must reciprocate. With a gift of roughly equal value.

For instance, cashmere mittens aren't covered by an ornament. Unless that tree dangler came from Tiffany.

At the risk of sounding Grinchy, it seems the magnitude of gift giving has grown.

When I was a kid, presents were for family. You gave your friends and neighbors a hearty "Merry Christmas" - maybe a plate of homemade cookies - and nothing more.

But that wasn't much fun. After all, who doesn't like to exchange presents? Next came the office Secret Santa. After that it became a gift-giving free-for-all.

Which is why a pocket present is so perfect.

Buy one. Wrap it. Keep it close at hand, like a loaded gun.

It's your best weapon in the battle against gift anxiety.