Have you spent endless hours seeking Christmas gifts for your Numero Uno?
We search stores. Dig through photos, files, and websites for unique gifts that say, “I love you.” Right, guys?
We’re all inspired by “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” Mr. True Love went all out to find his sweetheart’s presents. Five gold rings notwithstanding, though, romantic zeal doesn’t always translate to gift-giving know-how.
Our first Christmas together, my true love gave me gloves. Hairy-looking, mottled red and gray gloves, the like of which I had not seen before, nor have since. Later, I learned his mother, terrified her 17-year-old was hurrying into something serious, had suggested a pair.
He should have asked her help.
My future husband’s gift-giving impairment didn’t surprise me, though, because my father was the world’s worst. The oh-is-something-happening-tomorrow? thought never occurred to him before Christmas Eve. Second, penny-pinching Dad comprehended zero about Mom’s preferences.
Around age 10, I noticed their annual conflict.
Dad bought Mom a blue eyelet dress, perfect for running through daisies.
“Pretty!” I cheered. “Like the ones the eighth graders wear!”
Mom grated, “I’m not in eighth grade.”
True. Most eighth graders didn’t have five children. And even I saw the dress was four sizes too small.
The following year, Dad bought her a practical gift. A slip the size of your average city bus.
After 25 years of bombing, he finally welcomed his daughters’ help in choosing Mom’s Christmas gift.
My husband learned much faster. Now he’s so good, he should teach gift-giving lessons. Hubby could have helped the guy who teased his girlfriend one holiday season, insisting he’d give her an iron.
She responded with cute giggles.
He purchased a super-cheap iron, gave it away, and packaged a romantic gift in the box.
She unwrapped it. No cute giggles.
He spent the rest of Christmas trying to persuade her to: Open. The. Box.
If it’s the thought that counts, a traveling salesman’s wife blew that aspect. She gave him a week’s supply of socks, all dotted with her portrait.
Having dissed all these givers, I tried to be fair, asking Hubby, “What Christmas gift for you did I blow?”
He shrugged. “None I remember.”
None? Our relationship has spanned almost five decades.
I threw my arms around him. “You’re so forgiving!”
“Forgetful’s probably the word.”
“At our age, same difference.” I hugged him again.
During the holidays, I often lie awake. Did I buy the teens’ gift cards from stores that will ruin their reputations for life? Are the in-laws allergic to blue? Do little ones’ toys contain kryptonite?
Hubby’s forgiving/forgetting my Christmas miscues is the best present he could give me.
Your Extraordinary Ordinary: What’s the best/worst gift your spouse has given you?