I must have missed the "Mission Impossible " episode about getting a husband to help shop for family gifts. In desperation I blurted out that gifts can be found in any store. Before I could grab a fork to eat my words, John turned a misguided moment into a challenge.
He'd name a half dozen different kinds of stores. If I couldn't come up with an acceptable present from each store, his presence wouldn't be required.
Dry cleaners was his first challenge. Gift certificate was my response. Everyone needs to clean up their act from time to time. No more gift cards was my husband's reply.
Gas station was his next try, but I was looking right at the inspiration for my answer. Maps - no man on our list would ever have to ask directions again.
Not finding that amusing, John started looking around the room. Florist, he said - no flowers - no FTD. My ability to instantly wilt flowers prompted me reply - packets of the prolong-life powder. Even when family and friends get flowers from someone else, they'll think of us.
At this point my husband started to nervously fumble with his glasses. This prompted his insightful challenge of optometrist. He thought this was a prescription for success, but I saw through it and answered eyeglass chains - great for those who can't see to find their glasses.
Feeling the heat of only two stores to go, John thought for a couple of minutes before barking out bank - no money - no savings bonds. With the voice of experience I bragged I could get a free gift from the bank. He then disqualified paper, coin wrappers until I qualified them as a companion gift to the bank I had made out of a plastic jar - also free.
It was down to the last store. John thought and thought. Plumbing supply came out through a smug grin. After several minutes I had to admit - mission impossible. All I could think to get at a plumbing supply was inspiration - inspiration to buy butt-covering underwear.
Yes, I lost the challenge; but to show my husband that I could lose graciously, I went to the cobbler and bought him a gift - a sole for an 11E shoe. I glued the sole to a piece of poster board; and on the poster board I wrote, " Buying family gifts is now my sole responsibility". |
