I am the absolute worst gift giver. Christmas and birthdays stress me out. I wait until the very last minute and end up buying something solely for the sake of buying it. My poor husband ends up being on the receiving end. He hates it when I say he's difficult to buy for. A lot of my agita comes from the fact that he never expresses excitement, Does he love it? Does he hate it? Who knows? I may think it's the perfect gift but he gives nothing away so I never know for sure. This is the same guy that didn't outwardly express excitement as he watched each of his children exit my body, so I shouldn't be surprised. I'm sure he's excited on the inside, but I'm a jump up and down, let's hoot and holler type of girl and when I don't get that from him, I'm like 'WTH?' Another thing is that he's a damn good gift giver. For Christmas, he'll get me something that I may have mentioned in March. I don't even remember wanting it until I've opened it.
As a result of waiting too long, I either spend way too much, get the wrong size or buy something that he already has. It's not that I don't care, because I really do, I'm just horrible at it. Birthdays and Christmas are very important to Frank, not because he wants stuff but because as a kid he didn't have much. He actually enjoys giving presents more than getting them, buts it's still fun to receive something nice. It took me long enough, but I realize that it's not the gift, it's the notion that I've been listening well enough to know what the perfect present is, regardless of the value. I'm sure I'm making a bigger deal of it. I'm dramatic by nature, so twice a year I make myself crazy.
This year, of course, was no different than years past. I waited until the last minute because that's what I do. I decided to take the girls with me in hopes that they could help pick out the perfect present. Yes, it's taken me 16 years to figure that you don't find the perfect present 24 hours before the big day. Anyway, the girls and I hop in the car and rush to the mall.
Marley: I want to get daddy cologne.
Maya: I want to get daddy a tie.
Easy right? Wrong. Cologne and ties, two things I hate picking out. Frank has a shitload of ties and I always end up getting up a scent that I like on him as opposed to one that he prefers.
We get to the tie section and some of their choices were "OMG, Frank would never wear that." After 5 minutes of trying to find the words to not hurt their feelings, I convinced them that daddy had too many ties and didn't need anymore. We make our way over to the colognes. Where I'd go to the Obsession counter and get him yet another bottle, my girls want to smell every scent within their reach.
Maya: Mom, can you ask the lady to spray another card? (She asks this as she holds 7 cards in her hand)
Mac: I want card! (trying to get in on the action)
Marley: I need to smell the Boss. No, the Gucci. No, the Givenchy. No, the Versace. He's my daddy, I know what he likes.
Me: (overwhelmed) You know what? We don't know what cologne daddy has. Let's check when we get home and then we'll come back during the week.
The young lady, behind the counter, had a few giggles at my expense as she was entertained by the dynamic duo.
After an hour in Macy's, we walked out with a pair of shoes, that I prayed were the right size and 4 pairs of socks.
On his birthday, I sent a few 'I Love You' text during the day. I rushed home, picked up some Haitian food and an ice cream cake. The girls were so excited to open daddy's gifts. He liked the shoes, however they were the right size but the wrong color. He loved the socks. As we sat down to the first Cookie Puss he's ever had, I noticed a little smirk and knew that event though he'd have to pick out his own shoes, he was truly happy.
Wishing my hubby a Happy Birthday and many wonderful years to come.