He is one of those really obnoxious thoughtful gift givers. You know the one. They always buy the most perfect thing ever. You didn't even know you needed the thing until you got the thing and now you can't live without the thing.
I am the exact opposite.
Buying presents gives me dry heaves. I panic, wanting desperately to be the thoughtful gift giver, but buckle under the pressure of not finding the most perfect present ever. Seriously, people should have to register for every occasion where a gift is required.
I procrastinate, over think, talk myself out of everything, throw up, then buy absolutely nothing because I become gripped with the horror of buying the wrong present.
You know what they always say...no present is better than the not-absolutely-perfect present.
Last year, Michael took a trip to Germany and came home with, what quickly became, my most prized possession ever.
Lufthansa airplane socks.
Things you should know about me: if it is below 78 degrees, you will find me in a fleece, heavy pants and socks. And I will be under a blanket.
I was the first woman to go through pregnancy without complaining about the heat. And I was nine months pregnant in June. In Atlanta. In one of Atlanta's hottest Junes ever.
I wore the crap out of those Lufthansa socks. They died a noble death, doing their job to the bitter end. But ultimately, my toes won out and the Lufthansa socks simply gave out.
OK; back to the story.
So the other day Michael informs me that he has a present for me. My heartbeat quickens.
Oh! Didn't I tell you? Gift receiving is even more traumatic than gift buying for me. Yep...one giant ball of sanity over here.
What if my reaction isn't exuberant enough and the person is disappointed? And I don't mean them to be because I really do love the gift, but I'm bad at showing it because I'm emotionally stunted. What if I really don't like the present and they can tell? Because as soon as I saw what it was I stared silently for 15 seconds too long, then overreacted about how cool the present was and used words like "SO cool" "REALLY fabulous" "TOTALLY excellent" and opened my eyes wider and wider on each adjective so they understood just how AWESOME the present was. What if it's really a bomb that will go off as soon as I open the box. Whatifwhatifwhatif...
The holidays are a tough time for me.
Michael. Present. Right...
I open the bag and am frozen with fear. What is the appropriate level of enthusiasm for these:
I have an important distinction to make here though. Mine are all black.
This is a critical piece of information because as soon as I slid into these bad boys, it was clear that Michael did not buy me Magellan Travel Slippers as he claims.
He bought me ninja shoes!
I then spent the next hour running around the house being a ninja.
Michael says it looked more like this:
Whatever. He better watch his step and sleep with one eye open. You never know where the invisible ninjas may be lurking.