Monday, December 08, 2008
the unhappy elf
So the holidays are almost here. I received my first Christmas card in the mail today. Most of us are being a little bit lower-key on the gifting end of things due to various, ahem...economic factors. All that aside, I still like to get Andrew a few nice things and I also very much like to keep them a surprise.
There's one small problem in all of this: when your husband works at home and picks you up from your shuttle stop at the end of the day, keeping even a small secret can be a little challenging. This year I thought I had it all figured out. I booked dinner reservations for a Saturday night at Jazz Alley for a performance by Al Di Meola, whose art of electric guitar jazz is just the most amazing thing ever. I also found a classic clothing item that hopefully is neither 'dorky' nor 'gay' (the 2 most common protests about my clothing choices for my husband, who would probably prefer to live in a nudist or raggedy t-shirt colony) via internet order AND had it delivered to a co-workers home so certain inquiring minds would not be able to find out.
So on Sunday while I was visiting my aunt at the hellhole and helping her with some PT exercises, Andrew called me. He just wanted to let me know that Al Di Meola is going to be in town in January and that he'd just made dinner reservations for a Friday night since Saturday was all sold out. And there went the surprise of gift no 1.
And I guess that doesn't really have anything to do with him being at home, it probably has more to do with us having a similar interest in this musician. So, to get back to the point...
Let's fast-forward to today, where I get a another call from Andrew at work.
"Honey, did you order anything from Land's End? Because I got a receipt in the mail, but no package in the mail?"
I stammer for a few seconds, trying hopelessly to come up with a believable excuse.
Ater a bit of my sputtering, Andrew then says, "Uh, I hope I'm not ruining anything... Rae, are you there?"
It's a good thing I'm not an undercover FBI agent, or a criminal because I'm a pretty sucky liar, even if it's for a good reason. I couldn't come up with ANYTHING to make that pesky receipt vanish....zip, nada.
The only good thing is that he didn't bother to look at the actual name of the item, but c'mon people. When you buy something OVER THE INTERNET and receive a receipt confirmation and shipping confirmation via email does the seller really have to mail the buyer a paper receipt?
Next year, it's fruitcake, baby. Or a French maid outfit, both of which he'd never, ever suspect. Ever.