It's the Thought That Counts. I Guess.
Maybe I'll get one of these for Christmas. Maybe not. Whether I
want it or not does not determine what my Hillbilly Husband gets
He has bought me clothing 3 sizes too small. (Wishful thinking.)
He has bought me books I had no interest in reading. (I should
have expected this from a guy who moved my books into our
new house and put some books on the bookshelf according to
"how they looked." That means they were the big, thick books.
No rhyme or reason as to fiction, how-to, textbooks, best
sellers, etc.) He has bought me candy when I'm on a diet. (He
was hungry for candy.) He has bought me perfume. (I don't
wear any fragrance.) He means well. It's the thought that counts.
One of my friends said the worst present her husband ever gave
her was a bicycle. What's not to like about a bicycle? Sure, maybe
it's not romantic, but it's useful.
The worst gift HH ever gave me was a little red Dirt Devil vacuum.
It was a handheld thing, not big enough to clean the floor, too big
to suck up those small spills. That was the year I had given birth to
#1 son on December 12. I sat in a rocking chair holding him while
HH's boys, ages 14 and 12, brought me gifts and unwrapped them
for me. The younger one unwrapped that Dirt Devil, and said,
"Hmm." He looked at HH. HH said, "I thought you could use it."
It's the thought that counts. A couple months later, I was looking
for that Dirt Devil. I asked HH where it was. He said, "Oh, I took
it out to the workshop. It's just right for cleaning up." Now I know
why he gave me a Dirt Devil.
The best gift HH has given me is a tie between a gift card and a
chair. OK, so you may not think they would be good as gifts...
but they suited me just fine. The gift card was for Waldenbooks,
$100. (Good job with the Christmas bonuses, HH's employer!)
The chair was a red cushy office chair with adjustable height, and
5 wheels, a tilty thingy, and arms at just the right height. I am sitting
on it now. HH got it at Office Max, and smuggled it into the house
after storing it in the barn for weeks. Shows you how much I get
over to the barn, huh?
I tell HH every year not to get me anything. I can always pick
out something for myself. Christmas gifts are for the kids. Even
big kids, like HH. I really do prefer giving to receiving.