For my birthday my husband bought himself a present and gave it to me. An array of
knobs, numbers, letters and arrows on the 4 x 6 inch box indicated it was a
miniature radio.
“This
little technological wonder,” my husband offers proudly, “operates many hours
on a battery that re-charges every second that it’s plugged in.”
I
force a smile. If I had been able to choose anything I wanted for my birthday,
it would not have been a radio, not even a technological wonder.
“It’s
expensive,” he continues, “but, the cost is justifiable because this little
item serves dual purposes—your birthday present, and a great addition to our 72-hour
emergency kit.”
I’m
not impressed.
He’s
thrilled.
So
for his birthday, one month later, I buy me a gift and give it to him—a freestanding
Hammock.
He
doesn’t pretend to smile. If he had been able to choose anything for his
birthday it would not be a hammock.
I
can’t justify the cost—the price of my firstborn—and it’s extra-large and
weighs 2000 lbs., hardly able to fit in a 72-hour emergency kit. No dual
purpose. And he has to assemble it.
He’s
not impressed.
I’m
thrilled.
Birthdays
are coming up again. I can hardly wait.
