Presents for my wife on her birthday…

They say, “It’s the thought that counts…”

CarolI have noted several times that buying presents for my wife is not my favorite thing. Whether it be for her birthday, Christmas, or our anniversary, it’s always been a challenge.

For our last anniversary, I think I agreed to go in on getting a bike rack for our vehicle. I’m not sure because we haven’t actually done so. In any case, it was her idea, not mine, so it’s more difficult for it to stick in the brain.

Last year, as I’ve noted, she had hinted about getting two pieces of jewelry for Christmas. So I bought them in August. In September, she proudly announced she had ordered the self-same pieces herself. I audibly groaned. She said, “You didn’t TELL you bought them…”

I recently discovered in this blog that she did pretty much the same thing circa 2012. She hinted that she really wanted a particular book from National Geographic. I bought it. Then SHE bought it. I grimaced and ended giving it to something else. I don’t know WHAT I ended up getting her that Christmas.


A good friend of my wife has a daughter who is selling Cutco knives. The daughter wanted to make an appointment with my wife; my wife didn’t HAVE to buy anything because the friend’s daughter gets “points” just for doing the presentation.

I’m familiar with this gig. Back in the 1980s, my girlfriend’s daughter was selling Cutco knives. I let her make the pitch to me. My, those knives were expensive! But I bought one because it seemed to be the thing to do.

So my wife ends up buying several pieces of cutlery. It got to be a little pricey, which can happen easily. Hey, for her birthday this year, would I want to go halfsies on the knives? Yeah, sure, I guess. Oh, and the bill is already due.

So I gave her money for her birthday, a prosaic gift, but at least it won’t be something someone will have to return.

And, finally, I think I hit on something that she wants. I’ve ordered it. Allah willing, she won’t have purchased it for herself. Plus, we’ll go out to dinner. 

I kvetch, but she’s otherwise pretty swell. I love you, dear.

BTW, this is a pic of my wife at a restaurant a block from our house, pre-pandemic. You can tell I took it because it’s fuzzy.

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