Just get me socks and underwear. Preferably new.
Or a pair of gloves. Those’ll be good, until I lose them.
Honestly, I really don’t want anything for Christmas. If you get me something I’m gonna feel like a bum for not getting you something. You don’t want to make me feel guilty this time of year, do you?
I might like the shirt you get me even though I would have never picked it out for myself. In fact, it might become my favorite shirt but I probably won’t remember I got it for Christmas. Truth is, if I like the shirt enough I’ll convince myself that I bought it.
I don’t know how you Christmas shoppers do it. Some of you see something in July and buy it and then hide it for months, until the big day. That is the kind of discipline that impresses me as much if you flapped your arms and flew away.
If I bought a Christmas gift in July I’d wind up cracking and give it to someone for Labor Day.
We probably wouldn’t have Christmas without my wife, Kathy. If it were left to me, I’d hand out a few cards with money in it. Maybe turn the TV on to the Yule log channel.
I’m not bah-humbugging. I’m good with the lights and festivities and Christmas carols in the air. I just can’t take gift buying. The pressure is unbearable. Just tell me what you want. I’ve tried going to jewelry stores. Each time it was brutal. Does your wife like thick or thin bracelets? Does she like silver or gold? Would she like a ring or earrings? Uhh……uhh….. It’s the same feeling as taking a big test for which you didn’t do a lick of studying. Then another thought creeps in my head. How do I know this stuff is even real?
Maybe I’m traumatized by the story of my father buying my mother an iron for Christmas. Yeah, an iron. Brand new. That went over big. I think she used it to part his hair. Would a blender have been better, honey?
I’ve seen people open presents and do nothing to hide their disappointment.
I’m paralyzed by these memories.
I know I’m not alone. Some of you can’t read the Rockaway Times today because you’re out shopping on Christmas Eve. You need the pressure, you work better on deadlines. So you say. But you’re only out there because you can’t be empty handed on Christmas. There’s the stress of buying versus the self-loathing you’ll feel if you don’t have gifts to give.
It’s the thought that counts. And I’m very generous in my thoughts. Ridiculously, over-the-top generous. I’m not cheap, I just don’t know what to get.
I’m the one who started passing around the fruitcake no one’s ever eaten. At least it’s something.
Merry Christmas everyone. If I stiffed you on a present, please remember it’s the thought that counts and I’m really, really thinking good thoughts of you! I hope that works better than an iron.
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