Jim and I decided to make this an easy, stress-free Christmas. Neither of us wanted to be running around like crazy people, buying stuff that no one really wants. We did a lot to the house in the past six months, and we have some other things in the pipeline, so we decided not to buy for each other at all, and keep the shopping for others to an absolute minimum.
I say we agreed not to buy for each other, but as I told Jim, I had already pre-bought a couple of things for him -- small things -- so he would be getting a couple of gifts, but seriously, I didn't want anything. I had, after all, ordered myself a new laptop at the beginning of the Christmas season, since mine was on its very last legs. Come Christmas morn, Jim was happy with the Badpiper CDs I had gotten him (who can't love the only punk rock bagpiper, anyway?) and his book -- "If History Was Scottish". We got dressed and headed out to see the boys.
We had gifted them money so that they can go to Florida to see Jill, so the shopping was minimal. Thomas was SO surprised to receive the only book -- indeed, the only thing -- on his Christmas list, but I totally surprised him with a tiny Blue Power Ranger button that he wore proudly all day. Seth got a button that said "Oh snap, it's an onomatopoeia!" and a two pound container of Kraft Parmesan cheese, because it is a joke -- or not -- in our family that Seth LOVES Parmesan cheese. As in, there's generallly more Parmesan on his plate than spaghetti. I'm not sure if he was appreciative or annoyed, but he and Thomas agreed that it would be gone in short order.
Jill's gifts were a bit more complicated. She had sent me a short list of things that she wanted, so I ordered her the Kitchenaid mixer that she wanted. In icy blue, no less. I was trying to figure out if that was going to be it for her, because I had bought a bunch of other small stuff, and I was trying not to overdo. The decision was made on Sunday -- her birthday -- when she called and said that Michael had bought the same mixer for her AND she had already used it. Oh dear.
So I thought to myself, oh, I'll go to Bath & Body Works and get her some shower gels and such on the day after Christmas, because that was on her list, and the boys are taking her presents to her when they leave this weekend. I didn't even talk to her on Christmas Day, because she had gotten the flu the day before, and spent her whole day sleeping. Apparently she woke up later, because some time in the evening, she texted me and asked for the recipe for my stuffing -- alas, there IS no recipe, because it's in my head -- but at least it meant she felt better.
Today, I went to work figuring I'd stop at Bath & Body Works on the way home. Then my phone rang and who should it be but the Bratty Gurl, announcing that she was on her way to work, and guess what? She was going to Bath & Body Works for their $3 sale first. Oh. My. Gawd. Is it not possible to shop for this girl without it getting complicated? I didn't say a thing, figuring it was a message straight from God saying not to worry, I'd already shopped enough. I just laughed and went back to my work.
Then the phone rang again. This time, The Brat announced that she had gotten a full bag of stuff, only to find that the line was too long at the checkout and she would've been late to work if she'd stayed so "please please please can you go to Bath & Body Works and get me some stuff?"
"I'm at work."
"Can you have Jim go?"
"Jim's at work."
"I thought he retired."
"He has a little part time job with a friend."
"Well, would he stop by on the way home?"
"Not likely, cause he has to go to the grocery."
"Puh-lease????"
"I don't know what kind you want. And you know I can't smell anything."
"Oh, I don't care what kind. I love ALL their stuff."
Do you see why she's the Bratty Gurl? And so it was that I found myself in Bath & Body Works buying numerous very, very cheap shower gels and lotions at 5:30 this evening. I have NO idea whether they smell like flowers, the great outdoors, perfume, or stinky feet, but she'll be happy.
Next year, I'm giving her money.
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