All I Got was a Lousy Chocolate Bar.
by Risa Green
I’m not usually one to complain about my husband; most of the time, he’s pretty thoughtful, and he does his fair share with the kids, and I know that deep down, all he wants is to make me happy. Which are nice qualities to have in a husband. But somehow, this Mother’s Day, my husband seemed to have misplaced those qualities.
Let me just say that I don’t expect a fancy, expensive gift from my husband on Mother’s Day. In the past, I’ve gotten a cute dress (that I promptly exchanged for a cuter one), a silver necklace with my kids’ names on it, a beautiful pedestal mirror for my vanity…things like that. Usually, I drop hints starting a few weeks before; an “ooh, look at that mirror” as we stroll by a shop window, a page ripped out of a catalogue and conspicuously left on the kitchen counter, a subtle hint about how I really need some new things for summer. Usually, he gets the hint, and whatever it was that I mentioned ends up in pretty wrapping paper on Mother’s Day morning, and I pretend to be amazed at how good he is at picking out just the thing that I wanted (except for the dress, which was not at all what I wanted, and hence the exchange). This year was no different. I told my daughter about a shirt I liked in a store window; I casually mentioned a few times how much I really need a zoom lens for my camera; I pulled a picture of a table-top fire pit out of the Frontgate catalogue and left it on his nightstand. Nothing fancy. Nothing super-expensive. It’s not like I asked for diamonds or anything.
The night before Mother’s Day we went out with some friends and got home late – almost midnight, in fact. As I was brushing my teeth, my husband reminded me that it was going to be Mother’s Day in just a few minutes, and asked if I wanted my present now. I told him sure. And I’ll be honest, I was kind of excited, because if he couldn’t even wait to give it to me until the morning, then I figured that it must have been a pretty good present. Maybe, I thought, he’d gotten me the ring I’d fallen in love with at the fundraising boutique for my daughter’s school. Or, maybe he’d gotten me the purse that I’ve been drooling over for two months but that I knew was too expensive for me to justify buying for myself.