Monday, November 20, 2006

Maybe Some Fuzzy Slippers, Too

This weekend I asked Mrs. Joe what she wanted for Christmas. I am not going to be the clueless dolt not knowing what in the world my wife wants for Christmas. I mean, men have the whole year to pick up on the hints you women give us but yet we develope amnesia when this time of year rolls around. We walk around the mall with this glazed look in our eyes, thinking maybe she wants some perfume, or a waffle maker, or a stair climber. "She says she wants to loose some weight, didn't she?" Then we all end up at the Ruby Tuesday's watching the game with nothing to show for it.
Anyway, without putting down whichever of the 15 or so Children/Parenting magazines we subscribe to, she replies:

"I don't know, maybe a bathrobe."

"A bathrobe?"

"Yeah, a bathrobe would be nice."

I ended the conversation there, because what I was thinking was how has our marriage come to this? Getting my wife a bathrobe for Christmas? C'mon, you get your mother a bathrobe, not your wife. Unless, of course, this bathrobe comes from Victoria's Secret and has a matching see thru teddy with a snap crotch and... never mind. It's a safe bet that wasn't the type of bathrobe she was talking about. So I will be keeping an eye out for the hints because I assume she wants something else. But if it's a bathrobe she wants, a bathrobe she'll get.

I'll probably wait and go and get it on Christmas Eve, too.



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