G’s birthday is coming up. He’s one of those gents who is impossible to buy for. In the 7 years we’ve been coupled, I have struck gift-giving gold only twice. The first time was such low-hanging fruit that I knew I couldn’t go wrong. We were taking our belated honeymoon, which was a lavish Mediterranean cruise (ahh, the people we were before children!). While it was a trip to mark our union, it was also serving double-duty as G’s birthday would happen while we were crossing over from Italy into Greece. I bought him Docksiders and sunglasses. And like a little child, thrilled with his new things, he wore them both every day.
And then this past Christmas, I decided I needed to buy him a new wife.
No. Not actually a new wife. That would be a gift to me! I jest.
But I did want to buy him something like a new wife, one that didn’t have babies to attend to and housework to do. I wanted to buy him something that would keep him entertained at night while I put babies to sleep and, like I’m known to do, fall asleep beside them only to wake up fully clothed and unwashed well after G joined us for the night. So I bit the bullet on my Amex card and bought him a Nook, one of those fancy electronic book tablets. They should replace Game Boys and PSPs with these things – boys are inclined to use them because they seem like a game yet they’re actually reading! I plan to pick up 10 knockoffs of these suckers at a Tijuana market just as soon as I can.
This year, I thought I’d take action early. I’d notify a babysitter weeks in advance and book a reservation at a nice restaurant in NYC. We’d have an actual date night, like two adults we used to know. This is the conversation I had with him over the plans I’d made:
Me: You never responded to my email about the dinner reservation I made for your birthday.
G: Oh yeah, I got busy. What is it again?
Me: I booked a reservation at a great restaurant in the City for us.
G: Ehh, I’m not really sure what that day is going to bring yet. Maybe I’ll take the day off and we’ll do something. I don’t want to be tied down by a reservation this far out.
Me: Your birthday is on a Saturday (Editor’s Note: Why don’t men ever know when their birthday falls in the week? I look this up every time I buy a new planner.)
G: Even more reason then. I’m not sure I want to haul into the City on a weekend when I commute in all week.
Me: I’m not asking you to go to work. It’s to eat a meal with your wife!
G: Why don’t we just eat locally at Charlie Brown’s and take the extra time we would have spent driving to and from the city to do something else? (Editor’s Note: Charlie Brown’s is my dining nightmare. It’s a buffet-style dinner place that serves a lot of meaty fare that you can chase with a wilted salad you assemble with tongs that have surely been dropped on the floor. A lot.)
E: I’d rather just scrape my dinner off the highchair, like I do every night. This place is a good restaurant in the city. It’s a sexy kind of place with ambiance.
G: Ambiance to you means really expensive for me.
E: I’m paying for it.
G: [Eyes me suspiciously] You’re paying? And how’s that?
E: Me, Amex. What’s the difference? You’re NOT paying.
G: What’s the name of this place?
E: It’s called Yerba Buena. It’s a Mexican place.
G: This is sounding more like your birthday dinner. (Editor’s note: I would choose this place for my birthday dinner, too, but why does that matter!?)
E: No! It’s for you! They make guacamole table-side! You love that! And they have exotic things like watermelon french fries!
G: [Rubbing temples.]
E: On second thought, I’m wrapping up your Nook and you can just open it again. Like it was new.
G: How about you tell me you bought me Yankees tickets and then NOT give them to me again?
E: Yes, maybe I will. That sounds like a great idea.
(Ugh, birthdays. Is your husband impossible to buy for? Give me some home run gifts you’ve thought of.)
My husband’s best gift was a kegerator from Sams Club. It was between that or a beer vending machine.
May, That’s hilarious!
Erin, for gifting you this conversation I would print out Yankees tickets and tell him he can pretend.
Other than that, my home rums were a Playstation 3 and a handmade chess set of figurines.
Oh, am I too late? Did you mean this Saturday?
My hubs collects old books on law, enough said.
I love the line “I’m not asking you to go to work,it’s to eat a meal w/ your wife”
Ha! Love it!
I may be late coming to this post, but if you have not gotten him anything,a trip to Victoria Secrets is always a winner.
My husband is impossible to buy for too, I dread birthdays and Christmas. Ugh!
Hey – some of us HAVE to celebrate our birthdays with Christmas (December 23rd baby, right here!).
My brother is the one I can never ever buy for. The only truly successful gift I can recall is when I got him “Use Your Illusion II” when he was in his twenties.
My G used to work at a Charlie Brown’s (long before I met him, thankfully). The first time we went there together I saw chopped liver at the salad bar and had NO IDEA what it was. I stared, shocked, and told G we should notify the management that somebody’s child had done something horrible on the salad bar. I wasn’t kidding. *shudder*
Sorry, he’s right. Was this date night for him, or for you? Until you have racked up eight thousand hours and over two hundred thousand miles commuting to and from work, you cannot hope to comprehend the general loathing with which yet another trip into the city is greeted, regardless of the actual activity that lies at the end of that particular rainbow. And it doesn’t matter how nice the restaurant is; pretty much anything short of a ball game or a lap dance followed by a get-out-of-the-doghouse-free card will count as “your idea.”