Every major gift-giving holiday, it’s the same thing.
HIM: What do you want for your birthday/anniversary/Christmas/Groundhog’s Day present?
ME: I dunno. I need a new office chair.
HIM: That’s not a present.
ME: But it’s what I want.
HIM: And you can have one. But you need a present.
ME: I need a new cell phone.
HIM: What’s wrong with your cell phone?
ME: It doesn’t play the whole ring tone ever since it fell in a beer.
HIM: Why did it fall in…never mind. Go get a cell phone. That’s not a gift either.
ME: The new version of Microsoft Word?
HIM: That’s. Not. A. Gift.
ME: Well, what’s a gift? Isn’t it just something I want that I don’t have to go buy for myself?
HIM: No. It’s something cool and neat and that doesn’t replace something you own that you broke.
ME: Well, there goes you getting plastic surgery on your nose for Christmas.
HIM: (exasperated sigh, followed by The Look)
ME: Isn’t part of it being a gift also the fact that someone else thought of you and picked it out for you, based solely on how well they know and love you?
HIM: Good luck with that. There is no one alive who can figure you out that well.
ME: That’s part of my charm.
HIM: Never mind, I’ll just go walk around the mall until I see something that won’t get me killed.
Unfortunately, he saw bedsheets. Again. This marks the third major holiday that he’s bought me bedsheets as a gift. Here’s the problem with bedsheets: they’re AWESOME. He always buys these super-expensive luxury sheets with, like, 900,000 thread count, and then he complains about how it’s not a good gift. He goes so far as to say things like, “Stand over here in the light so I can see the look of crushing disappointment on your face when you open it.”
I, for one, think they’re great. They are the only gift that I will use every single day, without fail. Unless I pass out somewhere, in which case I’ve probably had so much to drink that I’ll still use the sheets when I’m in bed recovering from the hangover. The problem is he will comment on what a stupid present they were EVERY TIME HE SEES THEM, which will also be every single day. I bet he wouldn’t feel that way if he’d bought me an office chair.
Lorca Damon 
I love bed sheets. There is nothing like slipping into a bed with 1000 thread count sateen sheets, a fluffy pillow and a cozy blanket! I’d consider that an awesome gift lol!
I know! It’s just he sucks the life out of the gift by insisting it wasn’t a good gift!
I would have liked any of the items you requested… except the sheets would’ve seriously pissed me off, so you are awesome in that you enjoy his gift even if he doesn’t. My hubz & I go Christmas shopping for each other together to make sure our gifts are somewhat “comparable”. This is important because our daughter might be miffed on my behalf if daddy gets a billion new video games & mommy gets… sheets. LMAO! We usually get each other books, & then Santa gets us each some kind of “tech” item. The more useful, replacement gifts come throughout the year on bdays, Mother’s Day/Father’s Day, & Valentine’s Day. Yep, we’re super romantic like that! ;p
Maybe that’s the problem: I think “romance” is defined by knowing what I truly need, and getting it for me!
Oh and by the way…I got a deep purple faux fur blanket for my bed for christmas, and I LOVE LOVE LOVE it…of course I picked it because I need to touch everything and rub in along my cheeks in the stores before I will bring it home and sleep on it…
I’m the same way with lotions or hair products. I can’t walk around surrounded by a perfumy cloud! And I’m supposedly normal. I can only imagine how someone with sensory issues would feel tolerating a scratchy set of sheets or a wildly floral lotion.
Thank you I needed this smile! I just buy my own gifts, then give them to hubby to wrap. LOL This year he made me wrap my own!
That sounds almost like the conversations the boyfriend and I have. Only now I help him satisfy his innate need to give me something “thoughtful” by telling him what to get me, which is almost always something sparkly or snuggly and overpriced. I used to say, “just buy me booze and books”, and he would comply but he was never happy with them, and would constantly complain just as your guy does. I’ve learned my lesson. 🙂
I’ve decided the problem is I am far to practical and sensible. Those are words that have never before been used to describe me. But I’m with you on the booze and books! THAT will be the name of our editorial firm!
I bought myself bedsheets for Christmas. However, my guy did good – he managed to get me hiking pants in the correct size! It was very exciting.
I read: “He got in my pants it was exciting.” GO YOU!
Well, uh, hmmm… yeah… cuz he got me a size 8! Usually he buys me an extra large ugly-ass Hawaiian print mummu!
Oh. Well. There’s that. PLEASE tell me you put on the mummu every time you offer to put on something sexy!
No, I make him put on the mummu. I’ve had to teach him how to buy clothing. Starting with his own. You would not believe his taste… oh god, awful. He is never allowed to shop alone.
Well, uh, hmmm… yeah… cuz he got me a size 8! Usually he buys me an extra large ugly-ass Hawaiian print mummu!
What a great story