By Jack Edwards
Like most men, I enjoy shopping. Especially for Christmas gifts. In fact, guys enjoy few things more than wandering aimlessly through one store after another in an endless search for the perfect gift. Over the past few years, my wife and I have found ourselves doing less of this shopping for each other because in the months leading up to Christmas, we have gotten into the habit of alleviating the guilt we feel about purchasing expensive items for ourselves (i.e. My new Bose QuietComfort 25 headphones) and then telling our spouse not to get us anything for Christmas because That will be our present.
Well, this Christmas season, I have decided to take this concept to a whole new level. My decision may come as a surprise to certain people, for example, people who have grown used to my purchasing a Christmas present for them each year, like my kids. I am going to sit down with a stack of Christmas cards and apply this same concept to them. It may cause a bit of confusion at first, due to my just now deciding to do this, and my not having previously warned them, but I’m sure they’ll understand.
My card to my Uncle Bob will read like this, “Dear Uncle Bob, remember the Saturday last July when you asked me to come over to your house and help you haul that busted freezer out of your basement? And I skinned my knee in the process? Remember how sunny and beautiful that day was? Before you called, I had been planning on fishing that day. Well, Merry Christmas! That was my present to you.” And I’ll enclosed a printout from Accuweather documenting that the temperature that day was a perfect 78 degrees.
My card to my eldest daughter will include the following heartfelt message, “Remember when you got that speeding ticket last May? The one where the cop clocked you at 87 mph? Remember how Mom and I didn’t actually kill you? We let you live? You’re still alive? Well, Merry Christmas! P.S. Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again.”
Some people get their pets a gift, and I don’t see why my faithful mutt Willie should be left out in the cold. I know he can’t actually read, so I’ll read it to him, “Dear Willie, you know the shelter I found you at last August? The one where you were fast approaching execution because, not to put too fine a point on it, you’re not he most attractive dog in the world? Pope Francis recently declared that animals have souls and can go to heaven. I don’t know if you’re Catholic (for all I know, you’re Jewish or agnostic), so I’ll hedge my bets by saying, ‘You’re welcome, Happy Hanukkah and Merry Christmas!’ And by the way, that was a pretty big gift, so let’s call this good for the next ten years – 70 of your doggy-years.”
My new retroactive gift giving policy, of course, will not come as a surprise to my wife, but this year, I’ll be taking it one step farther. “Dear Beautiful, remember that diamond earring? The one the size of a walnut? The one with the loose clasp that you had been meaning to have fixed? The one that fell out of your ear and washed down the shower drain? And more importantly, remember the new one that just arrived from New York that replaced it? The one you said would be your Christmas gift this year? Well, Merry Christmas, Happy Valentine’s Day, Happy Anniversary and Happy Birthday! (by the way you don’t look a day over 29!) I love you!”