Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Socks were Hung by the Chimney with Care

Followers of this blog from over more than one year know that gift giving is not one of my talents.  In particular, I stink when it comes to my husband.  The poor man has received socks.  Socks! 

Worse than that was the year he received a re-gifted book because I'd stressed out due to pregnancy and the present I'd purchased for my mom, she'd already owned.  "Thinking of you as I wrap this gift." has become synonymous with Christmas.  My husband opened up his candidacy for sainthood by quipping, "Next time, just get me socks." 

So this year, I have vowed.  It will be different.   Normally, I start making a mental list and go through the children one by one, but that leaves me tapped out physically, fiscally, spiritually, emotionally, creatively by the time I get through them all and on to my spouse.  Hence, socks. 
I'd say ten kids does this to a person, but the book incident happened when we only had two.   So it's me.  

The problem isn't a lack of love, devotion or desire.  It's that I also stink at waiting.  I'll buy something and then because I see a need, I give it.  Ergo, we get to Christmas and there isn't something he needs or  Everything just feels like stuff to stick under the tree and you want a gift, a Christmas gift, to be something better than...socks.   

I have a few ideas, for replacing some things that have broken over the years.   I intend to shop for him first.   But I also wanted his input. 
"What do you want for Christmas?"

"I could use some socks." 

Maybe it's not just me.  

1 comment:

maria mcclure said...

You're not really bad at it. You've given me one - or more of my favorite gifts.

Leaving a comment is a form of free tipping. But this lets me purchase diet coke and chocolate.

If you sneak my work, No Chocolate for You!