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Submitted by Alison Storm on December 30th, 2008
Fifty bucks doesn’t go that far when you’re a newlywed shopping for your husband. I really can’t blame anyone but myself because that $50 limit idea– it was mine. I just figured with all of the expenses of the wedding and the honeymoon and starting our lives together that $50 would be plenty. But when you throw in the pressure of trying to find the perfect gift for our first Christmas as a married couple, well, let’s just say $50 may as well be a nickel.
I settled on a pair of clearance snowboarding gloves, marked down to $30 since they were last year’s style. That left me with just enough money for an ab ball. I know– not very romantic but it seemed like a good gift given my husband’s passion for working out. Since we were flying across the country to spend time with my family out west, only the compact gifts were allowed to come along. So he opened the ab ball before our departure. The gloves would be his Christmas morning surprise.
Somewhere between South Carolina and Seattle my husband’s bag was lost. Not only did it contain necessities like his undies and contact lens solution, but his dark green case also held the Christmas presents we had so carefully and lovingly chosen for each other. My husband believed the one saving grace he had was the gift he had purchased online and had shipped directly to my sister’s Seattle home.
“At least you’ll have one present to open,†he proudly announced.
But despite promises of on-time arrival, that gift never showed.
Phone calls with the airline revealed that the likelihood of his suitcase’s arrival before December 25 would be nothing short of a Christmas miracle equal to Tiny Tim walking crutch-less. So when we heard a knock on the door early Christmas morning, that’s what we called it– a miracle. We were more excited to see that bag courier than Santa himself. (Although Santa may have been a bit jollier.)
When it came time to exchange gifts, the $50 limit my husband and I had established became visually clear. My family members’ gift piles would have filled a pair of Mini Coopers to capacity, while my husband and I could have easily stashed our gifts in the glove box and still had room for all of those fast food napkins. In front of me I had two envelopes– not even a gift to unwrap. In front of my husband sat one small package.
Typically our family tradition is to go around in a circle, with each person opening one gift at a time until the unwrapping is done. Since this year everyone had twenty more presents than we did, my husband and I patiently waited for the gift tallies to even out. We squelched our jealousy while my sister’s fiancé opened not one, but two new watches. We feigned excitement when my sister revealed her remote control vacuum cleaner. We smiled politely as my dad unwrapped his new ski coat, complete with matching snow pants.
Finally it was our turn. I opened my first envelope. A magazine subscription. A good use of money considering it’s a gift that keeps giving for a whole year, I thought. My husband, God bless him, opened his sole package and showed more excitement over his new snowboarding gloves than Halle Berry did when she won the Oscar for Best Actress.
I picked up my last present, slowly opening the crisp envelope, savoring my Christmas moment. Little did I know that inside would be the best, most loving, awesome gift a girl could ask for. I pulled out the slip of paper inside, and read the words printed in large black letters. “Treat for Tired Feet: This coupon, when presented, entitles you to a free 20 minute foot rub. No expiration. Card has once a day limit. Value: Money can’t touch this.â€
My husband only got two snowboarding trips in before shredding his glove on a snow fence. But hardly a day goes by that I don’t get use out of that foot massage coupon. It true what they say– quality is way more important the quantity. There are few gifts I would want more than what I received that December on our newlywed Christmas.
