My husband has a problem. And no, it’s not me, smarty-pants. He has the hardest time waiting until Christmas to give his gifts. He wants to give them the moment he buys them. I’ve had him walk in the door from shopping and hand me the shopping bag because he couldn’t wait.
An additional complicating factor is that my birthday is around Christmas. It’s today, in fact. So, not only does he have the Christmas gift burning a hole in his pocket, he has to wait to give me my birthday present too. Most years I have nothing to open on my birthday because I’ve already received my gift two days early. Not that it makes much difference, really, but I like to honor the days on the actual dates.
This year my husband was doing a great job of not revealing anything. He and our daughter secreted away to her room to wrap my gifts. I was under strict instructions to stay away, so I did. My gifts arrived under the tree without me having a clue as to what was in the package. Okay. That’s not completely true. Something big and fluffy was under the tree, because hubby and daughter don’t use gift boxes, so I had a good idea of what it might be.
Well, Sunday I was cleaning off the dining room table and found a receipt. I wasn’t snooping. I swear! I thought I had left out the receipt for the gift I bought my husband. I unfolded it and “O Holy Night”. The paper was from The Mac Guys. I dropped it immediately without reading it, but it’s pretty clear I’m getting what I want.
I really didn’t want to make my husband feel bad, because he tried so hard to keep the secret this year. I put it back on the table and didn’t finish clearing it. He had lunch at the table and a snack without making the discovery. Hours later, he still hadn’t noticed the folded receipt. Finally, it was time for dinner, and I asked him if he would clear the table so I could set it.
Of course he discovered the receipt in the process, but he couldn’t tuck it in his pocket and be quiet about it. No, he had to question me. “Did you see this?” I tried to play dumb. “Oh, what is that?” He narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t buying it. “Did you?” Imagine a ridiculously goofy smile from me. I couldn’t hold it together, and I started laughing, so my cover was blown. Then I had the giggles because a few minutes earlier, my daughter had said to me, “We put your birthday pajamas under the tree.”
So, no surprises this year, but I couldn’t be happier. Not because I’m getting birthday pajamas or my dream gift. I couldn’t be happier because I have a wonderful family who the CIA will never recruit to send on secret missions where I can’t know of their whereabouts. (My son can’t lie any better than I can. His laugh always gives him away too.)
What about you? Do you like to be surprised on Christmas morning, or do you search for your gifts?