The Art of Gift Giving

My husband is a very generous man.

One year on Christmas I was playing Santa Claus, handing out the gifts that were under the tree.     

I pulled out a big box and looked at the tag.  It said the gift was for me and was from Santa.  Was that supposed to confuse me?  I mean, it was my husband Jack's handwriting and I’m not 4 years old.

I un-wrapped the gift, opened the box and to my surprise and pretend delight found that inside was a genuine Riddell NFL Jets helmet.  I mean, I’m a big Jets fan but what on earth was I supposed to do with that thing, use it as a shower cap?  Not to mention the fact that the stupid thing cost $285, but what the heck, it was Christmas, right, and aren’t we just supposed to be gracious and say thanks?  So that’s what I did.  I thanked Jack.

I pulled out the next big box and looked at the tag.  It said the gift was for Jack and was from Santa.  That confused me because it was my husband Jack's handwriting.  He generally acts like he's 4 years old.

He un-wrapped the gift, opened the box and to his pretend surprise and delight found that inside was a genuine Riddell NFL Giants helmet.  I mean, he’s a big Giants fan, but what on earth was he supposed to do with that thing?  He’s going bald for God’s sake.  Not to mention that fact that the stupid thing cost $285, but what the heck, it was Christmas right, and aren't we just supposed to be gracious and say thanks?  So that's what he did.  He thanked himself.

We scrimmage out in the front yard.