Mrs. C’s Birthday Present

Mrs. C’s Birthday Present

Yesterday was Mrs. C’s birthday.  You would know that if you were a regular reader.  

It is always difficult to buy your wife a birthday present.

Wives will always tell you,

“I don’t need anything for my birthday, you don't have to get me anything.”

What this really means is,

“You damn well better get me something, and you need to do it on your own, not because I am expecting anything.”

I am on my third marriage…I have learned stuff.

What to get…what to get?

You can always get jewelry, but that is not only expensive, it also sets the bar high for the next time because if you get some jewelry that is less expensive than the previous trinket, she wonders “Why?”

It is important to get something nice, but not set the $$ bar too high.

A man can not buy clothes for a woman.  He just can’t.  A woman is not happy with any article of clothes if she has not shopped for it herself and tried on multiple options.

You can not buy an appliance.  Well you can, but just don’t!

A Present for a wife is always very difficult.

This year while I was shopping at the guitar store, Mrs. C started messing around in the drum section.

“What are you doing?”

“I always wanted to play the drums.”

In my head “Really…hmmm.”

So, this year I bought Mrs. C a set of these:

I hope she will like them.  If nothing else she will have fun putting them together, she loves doing that kind of stuff.

My children are hoping she likes the drums because if she doesn’t that set might end up with a grandchild.  You can plug in headphones, so they shouldn’t worry too much.

I purchased the drums last week and hid them in the utility room.  Yesterday morning I pulled the box out into the basement.

Mrs. C told me the trip to the city would be her present.  I’ve been around the block and have been burned on that before.  She thought I might have believed her that the trip was enough, and I did not get her anything else.

Now I sprung the trap.  Mrs. C was in bed and I went downstairs as usual to practice my guitar.

BANG CRASH POW BOOM…"OUCH, CRAP, FUCK!!"

I then waited for Mrs.  C to come running all concerned for my wellbeing.

Chirp chirp…nothing.

"OUCH, CRAP, FUCK!! My LEG…SHIT!!"

Chirp chirp…nothing.

"KARE!!"

“Are you OK?”

Finally, … “No, I really screwed up my leg!”

Down the stairs she came, “Are You making this all up?” She is not easy to fool.

Then she saw the drums.

I think she liked them.  I never know, women are pretty good at faking emotions, she seemed happy so I’ll go with that.

If not, I’ll be asking grandchildren, “Who wants drums?”