Christmas with Christopher

I was nervous about Christmas between Christopher and me. I had gone all out on his birthday just back in November, but since I knew we would mutually be exchanging gifts, I didn't want to make a big deal out of it since Christopher still sits in the unemployment line. He couldn't and shouldn't spend any money on me.

I had dropped a heavy hint with him that I wanted a new Vera Bradley mini wallet to replace my worn out Coach one. Coach is nicer than Vera Bradley, but my old one had been coming apart by the seams since it got run over by a car when I dropped it in the street two years ago. I live by these mini wallets which attach to my key chain because it houses my building access card, keeping it in a convenient place so I don't have to dig for it whenever I want to enter my parking garage or building elevator or building doors. It's always with my keys, which I always have on me, so it's impossible to lose this $40 piece of magnetic plastic. Me = loves my mini wallet. The Vera Bradley one is just as nice, more colorful and costs just $10, which even an unemployed fella can afford.

My gift to Christopher was not as sexy. The kitchen in his apartment is New York style, which means that it is a cubby with a tiny fridge, a tiny sink and a tiny stove all shoved into one tiny corner. He had been admiring my George Foreman grill and dropping his own heavy hints for a few months. During an impromptu trip to Wal-Mart a few weeks ago, we ran into last year's family-size model on clearance for $24. I threw it in the cart like I stole it and bought it right in front on him. And then I wrapped it in front of him while he watched football and shoved it under the tree in front of him.

We had to do Christmas early because he was flying home and spending that week with his family. The night before we were to exchange gifts, Christopher admitted he hadn't gotten anything for me yet. I wanted my Vera Bradley wallet, dammit. I had described it to him, told him the price and the store where to get it. We may not have a big Christmas, but I wanted at least something. A token. And preferably not from CVS, the closest store within walking distance from his building. I wanted him to get in his car and drive.

"How about a Snuggie?" he asked into the phone.

"No!" I just knew that the Snuggie must currently be on the shelves of CVS. "Besides, you told me you would leave me if I ever owned one."

He laughed.

"Are you going to get me something?" I sniffed.

"No. I only spent an hour today looking for you for no reason at all," he said facetiously.

"Vera Bradley!" I chirped and then hung up the phone.

The conversation made me nervous. He was clearly shopping for me at CVS with as little effort as possible. The Rules advises to break up with a man if he doesn't get you something romantically themed for the gift-giving occasion. (BTW, I will deny ever knowing this to your face.) And I wouldn't have broken up with Christopher over the purchase of a Snuggie, gum, and a convenience-store bag of Combos, but I would have been extraordinarily disappointed.

I was so anxious that I put off Christmas with Christopher as long as possible. Finally at 1:30 a.m. when I was dozing on his lap, Christopher nudged me awake to open presents.

He handed me the guy's version of gift wrap, which was an opaque black plastic bag from either a liquor store or adult novelty store, take your pick. Inside it was a small Vera Bradley bag, and inside of the Vera Bradley bag was not one, but two Vera Bradley mini wallets. I squealed with delight.
Further inside the black naughty bag was a small box with a pair of sterling silver hoop earrings and a gift certificate for a spa. The card read, Thought you could use some pampering. I'm not the best foot massager. Love, Christopher

I'm always shoving my feet in his lap and begging him to rub them, or at least hold them on cold nights. He always turns his face away in disgust and tells me he "doesn't do feet." He acknowledged it and found a fix for it. It was perfect. And did you notice the Love in the card? Because I sure did. It was so perfect.

And then I felt like a bum when I hefted the wrapped George Foreman into his lap. I had also got him Scene It: Seinfeld Edition also on clearance at Wal-Mart. I knew nothing about Scene It or whether it was a crappy game or not, but I knew Seinfeld was his favorite TV show. He seemed to like it and thoroughly kicked my butt at it when we played it later that night.

(I still felt so guilty about him rocking the Christmas that I bought him a nice pair of slippers, courtesy of T.J. Maxx [I buy nothing full price], while I was shopping out of boredom when he was home visiting his family. Now he really liked those.)

(And just so everyone knows I'm not a complete douchebag, I did hand knit two very adorable stuffed dinosaurs for him to give to his baby nephew that he was meeting for the first time. So he didn't have to spend any money on the baby and still give him a nice gift. That totally counts too.)