At the moms group yesterday, one of the moms asked me what I’m getting Mike for Christmas. My big low-income mouth said, “I don’t know!” In my perfect smart-ass world, I would have answered, “Knee-pads,” and when they furrowed their brows in confusion, I would add, “They’re for me. You know. For slobbing the knob. Get it? GET IT?”
One gift I’m particularly proud of was the birthday present I gave during the hazy dating period. I knew he loved Flannery O’Connor so I asked him slyly what his favorite story was. Taking that information to Ebay, I won the June 1955 copy of Harper’s Bazaar with “Good Country People” appearing for the first time in print. Woot, woot!
Mike keeps asking me what I want and I always tell him, “Nothing,” which is a cheap way to get him to say that he doesn’t want anything either. Reverse psychology’s in my budget. So is a guilt trip-vacation to the time he filmed my college graduation and missed my whole on-stage curtsy and instead caught my friend Anna-Beth walking behind me, but I’m saving that for our two-year anniversary.
I also have to buy two $10 gifts for the trip to St. Louis, where my in-laws will entertain themselves with a round of “Rob Your Neighbor,” which is also called, “White Elephant,” and which is what I call, “This is what white people do for fun.”
In addition to the gift frenzy, I’m also worried about traveling with Nathan. Everything will be amplified 30,000 feet in the air–the cries, the poop, the huffs in our direction. In Victorian times, parents would sedate their children with opium before leaving to work. I guess this was before they could handcuff their young to the radiator. Unfortunately, there aren’t any quality opium dens around. I only want the best to drug my son! I don’t think my insurance covers baby valium. We’ll just have to deal.
Here’s hoping we don’t get thrown off the plane for breast-feeding, Nathan holds all his bowel movements until we’ve landed, and Mike enjoys tube socks and a gas gift card and I finally find a dress for Nathan’s baptism.
What will your holidays look like?