"I got you something..."

The first birthday present I remember getting from SO was a novelty cartoon t-shirt purchased from Sound Warehouse. We were 10 months into our relationship: he was new to dating; I was used to getting dumped. At that time, he didn't realize how much women read into gifts. Pulling it out of its plastic bag, my face must have given away my alarm. Was I the kind of girl who could be wooed by a George Jetson portrait, inked in flourescent pink and green? We laugh about it now, but then it caused a huge and ridiculous argument.

The art of giving gifts is fraught with peril. I schemed for months to surprise SO with an aquarium for Christmas, tricking him into thinking he was getting a new CD player in order to be certain of his total and complete surprise. The fish tank fell flat -- apparently the idea of new electronics far outweighed his desire to be an aquarist.

Who hasn't been on the receiving end of poor gift choices? God bless'em, most of our family members don't know how to shop for us. SO will never forget the time he got a box from my mother that was completely empty. His lastest Christmas present from my parents was a thrift-store shirt, complete with stain. I once got a gift of clothes hangers. They were padded, but I couldn't work up much enthusiasm.

I don't want to disparage anyone's good intentions. Buying a gift for anyone over the age of 12 is difficult. It's easy to buy for kids: they love everything. When babies, they even love boxes and the wrapping paper. I don't really feel the need for gifts. I'd rather not get one than be given something that was thrown together at the last minute. As I've gotten older, my desire to own things has dampened. Sure, I love to sink my money into plants and garden hardscape, but I no longer have the need to wear the latest fashions. I don't care what kind of car I drive as long as it's paid for. I like having a little house because it requires the least amount of furniture. SO's the same way.

He's gotten much better about gift giving as time goes by. He surprised me with an American Girls doll the year I moaned that I didn't have any little girls to dress. Bought me leather-bound volumes of my favorite books. Purchased and assembled an enormous swing made of logs before I got home from work one day.

I think BN LegoGuy is following in his father's footsteps. He came home from the Medieval Fair on Saturday bearing gifts: replicas of ancient coins for Sport, a hand-tooled leather wallet for his dad, and a tortoise pendant for me.

"I got you something for your birthday," he told me, draping it around my neck.

I love turtles, and the fact that he remembered this really touched me. But what really got me was the fact that he'd bought me a present with his own money. His dad didn't tell him to, no one prompted him to do it. He just did it.

(Flashback to all those handmade cards, beads strung on yarn, handprints in plaster, ash trays, pencil holders.)

He's kind. He's generous. And he loves his Mama.

I think I'll keep him.