I’m hard to shop for. I admit it. Karen has a heck of a time finding birthday and Christmas presents for me. And to make matters worse, I’m always home, so she can’t buy something online and keep it a secret. So last week, when she found something online that was a good idea, she bought it so she could keep it until my birthday, or father’s day or whatever. But then she made a mistake.
She told me it was coming.
Not exactly, she just said “Don’t open that box when it arrives.” So naturally I assumed there was something for me in it. Now I’m happy, and I spend all afternoon staring at the box, imagining what’s inside. Not really, but when she finally came home from work she told me that it was for my birthday. In six months. Like I’m gonna let that go by. Long story short, she looked on despondently while I ripped the box open, revealing a present that she was excited to give me – when the time came.
It was a cookbook.
Well, not really, more like a theory of cooking book. Alton Brown’s I’m Just Here for the Food. It’s got lots of food science knowledge that I’ve been lacking. Very cool. Except, two things strike me when I think about this as a gift:
- I no longer have an excuse to ruin dinner, and
- Karen doesn’t like my cooking
Actually I think it’s a very nice gift and I’m very happy with it; I’m just sorry that Karen is now going to have to think of something else when the time comes, or just count this as my present when father’s day arrives.