Last weekend the hubs and I were out on a date and he told me he needed a Christmas list from me. I said, "Oh, I don't need anything. I just got the new computer -- that's plenty!" He said, "Well, I need a list of little things, then." I said, "Oh, I really don't need anything. But, ya know, if you found some little thing that just seemed like it would be perfect for me, then that would be cool. But no pressure, I really don't need anything." (Oh, my goodness -- I sound crazy just typing it out, but it gets worse...) Then I said, "You know, part of the happiness of getting a gift is knowing that the person took the time to think about you, that they appreciate what you like and what makes you you." You know, some small gift that communicates everything that makes a person who they are.
But no pressure or anything.
Fast forward a few days, and my son Josh (just turned 7) and I were in the car, jamming out to the Phineas & Ferb Christmas CD. A song came on in which Candice (neurotic teenage girl) is agonizing over what to get her boyfriend for Christmas. When it ended, Josh asked "Why doesn't she just ask him what he wants?"
I said, "Well, Josh, sometimes what makes a gift special is knowing that someone took the time to figure out what you would like more than anything else, because they know you and care about you!"
Glancing in the rearview mirror, I could see his look of utmost befuddlement. I'm pretty sure it was the same look Dan would have given me if he wasn't so nice to me.
I laughed and said, "Sounds too complicated, huh?"
Maybe I'm trying to put a leetle too much meaning into what we find under the tree 19 days from now...
