fanny
Two days before Mother’s Day, Matt asked me what I wanted.
First, I think that over these years I’ve been giving him enough hints about what I want. And he should be able to easily nail all the special occasions for the rest of my life without consulting anyone. Second, TWO DAYS BEFORE? Asked me directly in the face? Seriously?
Well, I wasn’t mad. I was all calm and cool. Except I spent the whole day thinking, “if he doesn’t get me anything, I am going to die.”
As expected, he gave me a gift card. The same gift card that I had received on my birthday, Valentine’s Day, Christmas…an all-freaking-time gift card.
Here is the thing about Matt. He has no problem figuring out the millions of mile-long wires attached to the computer or television. However, when it comes to giving gifts, his brain shuts off. He will never do something as easy as to call your best friend and find out what you have had craved, and to get you that item as a surprise. He will get you a gift card the day before.
Here is the thing about me. I was happy. I will be happy even if I get a piece of wrapping paper. I get something! I am not going to die.
What made this gift card special this time was Matt woke up before me yesterday morning (I forgot when was the last time he did that), and had Ethan drawn this picture to go along with the gift card.
I will tell my kids this: Remember! Treat me well when you are at an age to buy me an actual gift. Because afterall I am the one who does all the laundry when your father hides in the den, sneakily watches Golf Channel and “works from home”.