Gift Time

The story of a cucumber left hubby unimpressed

For hubby's b'day today, I gave him a pretty, geometric prism-like acrylic sculpture thingie.  Not that big, not that small, just right.  Rest assured, the SJG didn't just admire it, pick it up and walk out of Sculptures-R-Us without paying.  I'm not that absent-minded.  I'm not a klepto.  I kicked that habit a while back.  Hubby has spent the morning moving his gift from room to room, in search of a perfect spot.  I couldn't be happier.  This means he likes it.  I think.  Gift time can be challenging when it comes to hubby.  This year, I believe I scored, unlike other years, when hubby has feigned excitement upon receiving yet another sweater.  There was a big fiasco a few years back, one that involved a horticulturally-correct rendering of a sprouting cucumber.  The future pickle got no love, just empty stares.  Hubby couldn't even pretend, he was so dismayed.  Where had I gone wrong?  Everywhere.  The SJG trekked her butt back to the fancy gallery and begged. "Take back the pickle, I beg you."  Begging works!  They took back the pickle but they barred me from the store.  Today hubby is a year shy of senior discounts.  He is 54, with a full head of hair and plenty of attitude to go with.  He's older than me.  Older by a year.  Happy b'day, happy b'day to you, hubby.  You are the birthday boy today.  Milk it, honey.  Tomorrow it's back to normal. 



Hubby picked Vasa over Vlasic