The calm after Mrs. Curmudgeon’s Black Friday tactical retreat didn’t last. The next day one of Curmudgeon Compound’s smaller humanoid forms needed to go to town and BUY STUFF. This was apparently urgent. I hammed it up.
Kid: “I need to buy a THING OF GREAT IMPORTANCE. I must do it now.”
Me: “Hmm… I see your motivation. Shovel out the chicken coop and I’ll see what I can do.”
Kid: “Moooooom!”
This went on for a while…
Kid: “Can we please go now? Please?”
Me: “The car is low on fuel. Siphon some gas out of the lawnmower and we’ll use that to get there.”
Kid: “Moooooom!”
After a few hours I relented. I’d had several post-Thanksgiving sandwiches and was game for anything.
En route we passed the store where the Black Friday bug out had gone down. It looked sane. “Why don’t we go in there and see if the iSlab and XWii2600 you both wanted is truly sold out. If it’s there you can cancel the Amazon orders (I think) and geek out today.” Mrs. Curmudgeon was reluctant but the kid thought it a fine idea. In deference to Mrs. Curmudgeon’s PTSD the kids and I ventured forth and left her with the car. Her wait would be short. I can shop in ten minutes.
We immediately ascertained that the coveted XWii2600s were long gone. Amazon really was the only game in town. (All hail the internet.) I let the kid prowl the aisles a bit and then decided our ten minutes were up. Time to go.
I turned around and nearly bumped into Mrs. Curmudgeon. She was hovering around the iSlab display with a look of longing. So much for waiting at the car. The display had a scant few boxes in a largely empty cabinet. The packaging was identical and gleaming white and reeked of hipsterism. I peered in the case; trying to fathom the difference between a pristine white box that cost too much and a virtually identical pristine white box that cost three times more.
Another shopper asked me a question; “Is that the iSlab Model A or the iSlab model B?” How the hell would I know? I’m more likely to run Linux on a Raspberry Pi soldered into a go kart than drop a week’s pay on a digital Prius. On the other hand this was an opportunity to be a wiseass.
“The one on the left is the iSlab Mark V.” I said, confident that the fellow had no idea how Lincolns were marketed decades ago. I was right.
“So why does it cost so much more?” He was buying my crap.
“It has a Turbo Encabulator.” I smiled knowingly. “It’s a few hundred extra but you will appreciate it. A Turbo Encabulator really enhances your experience.” Who could say no to a Turbo Encabulator?
“Ignore him.” Mrs. Curmudgeon cut me off and saved the poor wretch before I could sell him blinker fluid and a reverse mortgage. A salesdrone appeared. I melted into the background and joined the kids in the Lego aisle. Legos rock!
Twenty minutes later Mrs. Curmudgeon showed up amid the Legos. She looked pale and spoke weakly. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“OK fine let’s… hey is that a package in your hand?”
“Shut up.”
“Did you get the iSlab you wanted?”
“Yes. And I got the deal with the gift card. It was a good price.” She looked like she’d had a pint of blood extracted through her credit card.
I thought about making a joke involving Turbo Encabulators but decided I’d rather not get kicked in the balls. Mrs. Curmudgeon, like me, doesn’t like big purchases. They almost hurt. I groped for something non-committal to say.
“Right, well off to the parking lot eh?”
Ten minutes later we were in the car. She was still white as a sheet. Time to break the tension.
“Are you happy? It looks cool.”
“Yes, but I HATE spending that kind of money.”
“Honey, that’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said. You are so hot right now.”
“Quit it, I’m freaking out.”
I knew exactly what was going on in her mind. We’re alike in that way. Many years ago I treated myself to a nice hunting rifle and scope. I practically stroked out at the cost. The rifle was worth it and the iSlab would be too. We’re just nervous about large numbers; in fact Mrs. Curmudgeon is more frugal than me. But an iSlab is not a Ferrari and only freaks like me type on an AlphaSmart and upload from a Raspberry Pi.
“You’ve wanted it forever. Enjoy it.” I really meant it.
“But… money.”
“Bah, we can afford it. Enjoy your shiny toy. It’s not like we’re going to wind up living in a cardboard box.”
She nodded.
“Besides.” I continued, “that box is way too small to live in…”
You gotta’ pitch the one liner when the universe cues it up. Mrs. Curmudgeon laughed so I think it’s OK.
An hour later she was finally relaxing. “Well,” she sighed “at least I’ve got my Christmas present. Thanks.”
Huh?
“This is exactly what I wanted.” She continued. “I don’t want anything more for Christmas.”
My spidey senses tingled. Was this a trap?
“You don’t want other stuff for Christmas?” Was I off the hook for Christmas shopping? Holy shit! This was awesome. Christmas shopping is hell, I occasionally screw up and get her a really retarded gift. I never know which gift will be my next epic faceplant. I DIDN’T HAVE TO LIFT A FINGER AND CHRISTMAS SHOPPING FOR MY WIFE WAS OVER!
“Want more stuff? After that extravagance? Hell no!” She meant it.
It had to be a trap. I’m not a subtle man so I asked. “Is this a trap?”
“Nope. Your Christmas shopping for me is done.” She smiled.
“Can I have that in writing?” I’ve been married a long time and haven’t yet figured out the rules. (And I never will.) Maybe I should get it notarized?
“You can relax. That thing cost a fortune. I am perfectly happy.”
“OK fine, but I’m putting this in my blog.”
She agreed.
So there you have it folks. If I wind up dead on December 26th, you know why.
TRAP! I’ve gone through this before. Get several small, not expensive gifts. Try to be thoughtful.
Several thoughtful gifts… I’m doomed aren’t I?
You’re a man, aren’t you? You’re DOOMED!!!!!!!!!!!!!1
Yes, you are.
It’s always a trap. Get her a little cover for it or something… It’s the effort and it gives you an escape mechanism.
Hmmm, having been married once, I think you would be prudent to have a backup plan, an escape route, cached food and weapons, and top off the tanks in the truck. Failing all that, make her breakfast on Christmas morning and don’t forget the flowers.
http://ourbestbites.com/2013/01/how-to-make-a-bacon-bouquet/
Never miss an opportunity to let your better half know that you think she’s awsome. It keeps them wondering what we are up to.
https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQzZqJ5-HhPxd3Dpu3CiR5pSEYyty35N6ae6IwSVtc9JPhFJYYO
Hopefully that posts through…
Golly, you make shopping almost sound…fun. Me, a couple shots of nerve dulling is the preferred method. Either that or a quick snatch & grab…but only after recon confirms the checkout is clear. You have a great family.
Shopping is never fun. But a happy family is fun.
Sounds like it’s time for you to go out and buy what YOU have always wanted. That shiny yellow 1974 AMC Gremlin! Maybe one of those Randall 401-XR cars?
I could use it as a reactive target maybe.
::nods, knowingly::
It’s a trap.
Never hurts to have a back up plan. Now would be a nice time to purchase a nice protective case or back up charger or similar such accessory that shows you support her purchase, but still want to contribute to her Christmas; while still respecting her desire to have no (read minimal) further expenditure on herself.
Merry Christmas Curmudgeon!
She sounds amazing. Why, if I ever met a woman like, I’d…set her up with a friend 😉
Women love men who assert their manliness. Except, of course, for the SJWs. And surely Mrs. C is no SJW?
Assert yourself. Take her at her word.
I’d better get me a buncha popcorn. And some COLD beers…
}:-]
“Nope. Your Christmas shopping for me is done.” She smiled.
That’s her gift to you. Or it’s a trap.
Also, aisle, not isle. Unless you’re going for some double meaning. Or I’m wrong again.
Dammit… my grammar Nazi instincts have failed me. I knew I was spelling something wrong but couldn’t put my finger on it.
Also I spelled “damn it” incorrectly.
As a woman, I agree with everything that has been said here; a little token or accessory is a good idea (esp if she’s not expecting it); nice Radox bubblebath with a tiny vanilla candle or similar because you “know how she stresses about keeping you all together with a family, esp teenagers”. That would send me into a pile of happy-goo.
You didn’t specify if the kid is male or female. If female, drop her off at the door to the mall with instructions to buy the 4 or 5 inexpensive things her mother has already told her she wants. Drive to the nearest bar and enjoy a few libations. After 2 hours or so pick up the daughter at the mall and drive home feeling confident that your work is done. If, on the other hand, the kid is male, iteotwawki, consider becoming a Tibetan monk.
Not a trap. Your wife sounds just like me. Spending money is NOT fun, and there’s a little meter in my head that keeps a running tally of expenditures. Large-ticket items set panic alarms off, no matter if they are good, useful purchases that we can easily afford. After a financial bloodletting, the best thing for my peace of mind is to virtually stop spending for a while. I do agree that a small inexpensive gift is a good idea though. Wrap a bar of chocolate or two, and put in a little note telling her what an amazing woman she is and how glad you are to get to spend your life with her, and you’ll be fine! Merry Christmas. 🙂
You’re the first one to say it’s not a trap. 🙂
Mrs. Curmudgeon, like me, may think of January without a spending hangover as a gift of its own. That said… I have no inexpensive gifts hanging around… so I’m probably doomed.
Why not just put a bow around BPD’s neck and let him waddle into your home on Christmas morning?
}:-]
“Merry Christmas honey, it’s a scrawny idiot duck with identity problems.”