Twas Day 1 Of Christmas Nightmares

Every year my mother asks me for my Christmas List.

Like I’m five.

So I remind her that lists don’t really mean anything, since I put the Easy Bake Oven on my list every year as a child and never got it. Mom does not appreciate this comment. (to me, that joke never gets old)

So every year we have the SAME conversation about gifts.

Mom: “What do you want for Christmas?”

Me: “Well, there’s not really anything I want. Except money. And gift cards are nice. I like those.”

Mom: “I don’t want to give you money. What, I give you an envelope and you only have one present to open?”

Me: “You could wrap the bills separately.”

Mom: “Very funny. Seriously, help me out.”

Me: “But there’s nothing specific that I want.”

This isn’t entirely true. There are MANY specific things that I would like, I just want to be the one to pick them out. I’m very particular about my clothing.

But this year is different. The other day when I was at the register with my Dad at Macy’s, he offered to buy the coat for me.

Dad: “We’ll give it to you for Christmas, since your mother never knows what to buy you.”

Me: “Awesome idea. She’ll be so happy to have something to wrap up and stick under the tree.”

Later that night…

Mom: “Dad showed me your coat. It's really nice.”

Me: “Thanks. Hey – you finally have something to give me that you know I really want.”

Mom: “But you know what it is. I don’t like giving you gifts when you already know what they are.”

Whaaaaaat???????

What’s the difference from a coat that I picked out, or a coat that I put on a list? Either way, I ALREADY KNOW ABOUT THE COAT.

Me: “I thought you’d be excited that you had something big to give me this year.”

Mom: "I guess. But I want you to be surprised, otherwise Christmas isn't fun.”

Ma-humbug!