Next time he gets a gift certificate to the book store

The Sisters have had trouble with our spouses and gifts, a whole range of trouble. I’m not going to go into most of it. Really, it’s obnoxious and it makes some of us a wee bit irrational.

Now mostly, I don’t have any trouble with My Honey. He’s an excellent gift giver. That’s not his problem.

I pride myself in buying perfect presents. I always put a lot of thought into what to buy for each person. I enjoy it immensely. That’s why I was flabbergasted at what has occurred over several years.

Years ago I bought My Honey two gift certificates – one to have a mobile detailer come to his work and detail his truck and the other for an executive massage at a very high-end men’s spa in town. I thought I’d made a gift coup. I managed to get him the two things he was always talking about and wishing for.

Years went by and he never used the certificates. La la la la la, then the spa shut down.

The first year I volunteered for the book festival, he gave me the gift certificate for the car detailing so I didn’t have to have bestselling authors riding around in the car my children are systematically destroying.

Then, last weekend, he hands me the spa gift certificate.

“Here,” he says, “I’ll ever use this. You can have it.”

“Oh, come on. You complain that your back hurts all the time.”

“The spa is closed,” he points out. It is true that this particular branch closed, the one specifically for men, but the main company is still around and still huge.

“Go to one of the other spas. Just call them up. Have a pretty girl rub your back.”

“Really, honey, I hate to see it go to waste.” He hands me the card, again. “Use it for your hair or whatever.”

I took the card. I’m not an idiot. There is still $100 on that card. Should I do my toes? Get a massage? Both?

As I looked at the spa website and contemplated what I would do with HIS present, he sidled up to me at the computer. He had on the puppy dog eyes.

“Will you come rub my back? It’s really tight.”

You have got to be freaking kidding me.