by Elizabeth Sinclair
When we were first married, by no stretch of the imagination could my husband be described as a romantic. Please don’t misunderstand. He loved me, and I knew it. He was a big hand-holder, hugger and kisser. He just fell short in the gift-giving department. For years, being very practical, his idea of a good gift was a blender, a vacuum, a breadmaker, or (are you ready?) a sponge mop with a special scrubber strip. To his benefit, it did have a pink bow on the handle. He told me it was a joke, but, given his track record, I had serious doubts.
Getting the idea?
When one of our two daughters got old enough, she became very big on remembering special occasions and would give him a gentle reminder. “Daddy, it’s Mom’s birthday. Did you get her a present? A real present?” She knew early on that a kitchen appliance did not qualify as a REAL present. When that didn’t seem to sink in, she began giving him suggestions. And I have to say that after she started helping out, the gifts did improve . . . until that fateful Valentine’s Day.
On Valentine’s Day morning, I was awakened with a kiss and told there was a gift on the dining room table. I hurried downstairs and found a terracotta pot sitting in the middle of the table. Laying around the base of the pot were a pile of red petals and protruding from the pot were a dozen stems, a few leaves, and the remains of what once were tulips.By the time I’d stopped laughing, my husband had appeared. I kissed him and thanked him. After all, it was the thought that counted, and it wasn’t a sponge mop.
I’m happy to report that he has improved 100% and now gives me such gifts as perfume, lingerie, jewelry and clothes and often makes me a lovely romantic dinner for my birthday. And all that only took 51 years of marriage.
So, what’s the strangest gift you’ve ever gotten from your spouse?