A Good Deal

Occasionally, my husband has moments of brilliance. I wrote about one instance here. Another area where he has excelled lately has been gift-giving. However, gift-giving was not always his forte. In fact, for a while after we had kids, he pretty much sucked at it.

One year David missed first my birthday and then Mother's Day. Could it have been worse? Perhaps. At least he didn't remember my special day by giving me a Dustbuster for my birthday like my dad did for my mom one year. I believe my dad's still paying for that one. However, I was still pretty angry at being forgotten.

As payback I decided to treat myself to a $150 pair of shoes, hoping that would jar him into putting some thought into presents for me instead of letting me go wild with our credit card. How passive-aggressive of me. Unfortunately, the plan backfired since rather than being appalled that I had dropped that much money on something as frivolous as shoes, he seemed relieved I had taken care of the matter myself. I had a fabulous pair of shoes, but not what I really wanted, which was my husband thinking about me and buying a gift himself.

So, we had a little come-to-Jesus talk. Our "talk" went something like this.

Me: We need to have a talk. (The surest way to strike fear in any man's heart.)

D: Uh-oh.

Me: You do realize that you totally missed Mother's Day, right?

D: I did?

Me: And that's after you missed my birthday earlier in the year.

D: Uh --

Me: You understand that by default, meaning that of the two us I am the only one who cares enough to think about it, I have been placed in charge of gift-giving in this family, right?

D: Sure, I guess so.

Me: There's no guess about it. I take care of Christmas, birthdays, Mother's Day, and Father's Day for both sides of the family.

D: Okay. (Tries hard to look disappointed and remorseful, but I see him smirking.)

Me: But I don't want to take care of gifts for myself, too. Another missed occasion will not make me a happy camper. And I don't think you want to see that. I believe you remember what happened the last time I was not a happy camper.

D: (Now with a look of terror in his eyes) Yes, I mean, no, I mean --

Me: So here's how it's going to work. You will buy presents for me three times a year: my birthday, Mother's Day, and Christmas. It doesn't have to be big. It doesn't have to be expensive. There just has to be some thought put into it. That's it. That's all I ask. Deal?

D: Uh --

Me: Excellent. I'm glad we understand each other.

That was quite a few years ago, and since then I am happy to report David has never once forgotten his job. He invariably comes through and with flying colors. He's bought me a couple of pieces of jewelry that are just my style. He bought me a three-month gift certificate for massages. One year he bought me new dishes -- new dishes!! -- with absolutely no input from me, and yet they were perfect for me and our home. And he really outdid himself this last Christmas when he gave me (us) a trip to France. Hands off, ladies! I've trained him, and he's mine!

I don't even have to give "subtle" hints about when my birthday is coming up or even what I might like to receive. Any attempts of that nature on my part result in him looking at me with a sad expression on his face like I've disappointed him. And in a way I probably have. So he's learned that remembering me on certain occasions is very important, and I've learned to shut up and trust him. Not a bad deal. Not a bad deal at all.