Just to give my father a twitch, my mother had joked about making kilts for him, my two brothers, and myself. My oldest brother and I followed that up with a (semi-)serious discussion of which tartan the four of us could agree on.

As to what I actually got - two pair wool socks to wear with my UKs, and a bit of money towards a pair of kilt socks. Since the brother who gave me the wool socks has the habit of commiting slow suicide, I have to find out how to get the smell of cigarette smoke out of them ... it's the thought that counts, though.