I grew up in a middle income home in middle America. We were certainly not what you would call “fancy.” I’m pretty sure what we used as a “butter knife” for most of my life was actually a fish knife. But when it came to thank you etiquette, you would have thought my mother was educated by Emily Post herself.
For every present I received on my birthday, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, you name it, I was forced to sit down and pen a handwritten thank you card. If my grandparents sent me a check, I was to explain what I was going to do with the generous gift. The note was required to be more than two to three sentences. I could talk about what I was learning at school or Girl Scouts or general life tidbits if I needed to fill up space. Even though I was required to write the thank you cards, they were to never sound forced or as if I weren’t truly thankful.