A last-minute gift from a child does not have to be an apology. The ones that get kept are the ones that are obviously, unmistakably theirs.
A bought present from a six-year-old was chosen by an adult. The drawing, the certificate, the interview — those are evidence of the child at that exact age, and that is the thing nobody throws away.
It also solves the real constraint: it is tonight, it is free, and the child does it themselves.
The night before, twenty minutes, genuinely kept.
What actually lands, and it is not a mug.
Three sentences, spread out, genuinely theirs.
The version worth keeping is the one they filled in.