Misadventures in Birthday Shopping

Tomorrow is the big day. A's B-Day. I have been promising Spike for weeks that I would plan out "something great" for his birthday but by 7 pm tonight still hadn't planned a thing. Thanks to my cell phone directory and last minute babysitter, we have a nice dinner lined up and hopefully a party later in the evening of people who think Spike is great and who are willing to eat my cake.

I am the classic bad-at-birthdays wife. It's hard for me to think up something meaningful so I compensate by buying every single non-pink thing that isn't nailed down at Target. I then tell Spike to pick what he wants and I return the rest. Usually, he just pats my rear, tells me he loves me, then says it's okay to just take it all back. I have reason to think that this year will be different since I changed my usual shopping venue and actually got him something non-returnable (I can see you grimacing from here, Spike!). He'll just have to pretend that he likes them then call his mom to cry about me after I've gone to sleep.

Spike's birthday wouldn't be so stressful if he didn't always get me great gifts. He has a complex method of determining the perfect gift for me. He listens to what I say I want and then gets it. This is way above my head. It's one of those deceptively simple tactics that is almost impossible to put into actual practice by the common wife. I always have to be clever and get him what I think he wants but didn't know. He had an awkward birthday back in 2002 when I bought him a nose hair trimmer. That's wasn't too well received. Then there was that birthday a few years ago when I bought him a scale and jogging clothes. He looked at the presents, looked at me and said "so you think I'm fat?" I'm a moron.

Whatever he thinks of the presents, he will still turn 29, solidifying his old goat status in our marriage leaving me with the high card of youth. It's going to be creepy when he turns 30 and I'm officially married to a geriatric. I'll have to get him Velcro shoes and a subscription to Good Old Days Magazine for that birthday. I really wish I could send Shakira to his firm to do a singing telegram but she's all booked up this week so we'll have to stick with my mystery, unreturnable gift. All I can promise is that it doesn't have the words "Girl Power" anywhere on it. Other than that, I make no assurances. Spike, get your fake smile ready!