My poor poor husband can’t be left to pick out a gift for me on his own like he did way back in ’96 when he gave me a gold pin of Mickey Mouse to wear “you know, just whenever.”
I ask you, WHO THE EFF WEARS A PIN?
WHO THE EFF WEARS A MICKEY MOUSE PIN?
WHO THE EFF WEARS A 3-INCH-TALL GOLD-PLATED MICKEY MOUSE PIN?
I’ll tell you, not me.
“It’s the thought that counts.”
The thought that as a 20-year-old “woman” I’d want to wear a Mickey Mouse pin?
At 20-years-old all I wanted was $10, another tattoo, and a Zima.
I love my husband more than brownies. I promise I do, but he’s not the best gift-giver.
I’m SO getting in trouble for this.
And guilted.
And I’m never ever getting another gift.
I have my fatness to thank for my lack of wanting things other than food, UH DUH.
If I were 50 pounds lighter, I’d want for things from Anthropologie. I’d pretty much live in their clothes.
And Shabby Apple.
And J. Crew.
And The Gap.
In my next life, I’ll totally be a retro, vintage-y kind of chic girl.
For now, I have last-year’s chino capris that shrunk in my drawers. bygones
Shopping for things for me is no fun.
Just ask my poor poor husband.
Buying gifts for me is nearly impossible unless it includes a dinner at a place of my choosing. I’m not happy with surprises.
Anal.
But not the owchie kind.
I don’t want for expensive purses. When I do need a new one, it takes me 17 trips to 14 different stores and countless hours online searching to find the perfect one. And still, I pick the one that will look better on me when I’m 70.
I love shoes, but because of my broken food foot 3 years ago, I have to be super picky with the style.
I don’t have the space for or want to dust chatchskies tzatchkies chotsckies kick-knacks.
I do want more money, but if he gave me cash, it would just be our cash and I’d spend it on Taco Bell and blow.
The BEST surprise gift he’s ever given me: our first cruise. 5 days, just us, and he arranged for my mom to watch our girls. I gained 9 pounds, he lost 3. Asshole.
The only thing other than cashola that I still want?
A DSLR.
mama wants. mama neeeeeeeds. mama will have one day thanks to The Secret, right? RIGHT?
Mother’s Day is in 2 weeks. I’m predicting he’ll make me pancakes and coffee and give me the funniest card he can find. I will LOVE it.
And if I’m NOT lucky, a Willow Tree Mother/Daughter/Angel/Clown figurine.
