he says
Gift Giving Minefield by JAMES CLAIRE
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If there is one time of the year I wish I could simply wake up and evade, it has to be Christmas. Life was once very simple. I was single then.
or 25 years, I never had to worry about gift giving — what to buy, what not to buy, what gifts meant — or listen to hints for months! But now I’m married. And with the onset of Christmas, I am petrified of what to buy. I have heard from many male friends on the subject of buying the wrong gift at Christmas. The fake surprise, the smile with her eyes closed, the silence upon unwrapping, the tears, the slamming of doors and the quiet months of 2014 that could all hinge on what appears as she rips paper and tape on Christmas morning. It’s enough to make me hyperventilate! Why do we do this to ourselves? More over, why do women do this to us? Where is the love and understanding? I’m busy. I work two jobs. But heaven forgive me if that gift is not what she has hinted at all year, if the paper is not expensive enough and if the thought behind the package does not seem to be deep enough? www.womanthismonth.com
I may hate shopping but I hate one thing more — long queues on December 26th at the returns counter! Let’s not forget the embarrassment, the stares of angry women, summing me up as that uncaring low life who bought his wife a blouse in shocking purple. Worse is the men who stand beside their wives at the return counters, the balding sombre heads gazing at the floor, embarrassed, guilt ridden, wishing they could be anywhere else. Forget clothes! They are filled with problems from size to colour. Stuffed toys can wait for when we have children. Flowers are sweet but thoughtless and giving her chocolate can swing both ways. Too much and she’ll complain of weight gain, wrong brand and I’ll end up eating them myself. I refuse to buy bags or jewellery. I am not taking a mortgage for Christmas. Just because she liked something last year does not mean it’s in style this year. So what’s left? My only
real choice is, of course, a gift certificate so that she could choose for herself. If I mention that out loud I’m seen as uncaring, but there is common sense in my thoughts. Shopping is a woman’s thing. You enjoy sifting through endless racks of clothes, the theatre of the crowds, the noise, the danger of being run over by trolleys, the endless lines and ultimately the ecstasy of the purchase. Men just don’t — at least I don’t! It’s not that I haven’t listened or learnt during our time together. In fact, I did listen, I do care and I have learnt all that I need. And a gift certificate gratifies us both. I’m sure Christmas was never meant to be this hard — riddled with guilt, angst and fear. The single life was so much easier when all I had to worry about at Christmas were the words of Bart Simpson: “We’re forgetting the true meaning of Christmas! You know, the birth of Santa!” Merry Christmas to you all! December 2013
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