He doesn't appreciate my efforts at all...probably because the only time he ever put effort into things was as a tyke. His afternoons were spent making macaroni pictures of his parents, which he saved for an entire year. Then, on his mother's birthday, he presented them all to her in a very precious little amateur scrapbook. She promptly burned it in front of him, and made him eat the ashes, screaming all the while about how he had ruined her love life with his father and left her vagina a gaping hole of despair.