The Perfect Gift--20 questions

One of the things that has been the most helpful in choosing the right gift for Mrs. O. is asking the right questions.  I mentioned in a recent post that it helps me when I don't limit the questions to, "Do you want a blank for Christmas?"  It's much more helpful to ask, "What kind of gift makes you feel treasured, cherished and pursued?"  Think of it like the game Twenty Questions: if you ask the first question and the answer is 'no' then you have only dealt with one gift and you haven't gained any good ideas.  If you ask the second question, it doesn't matter what the answer is.  You'll likely end up with at least a couple of springboard ideas.


I also asked Mrs. O. about the types of gifts she likes for different holidays.  It turns out she likes the gift to match the occasion to some extent.  For example: Birthday--gifts that reflect her love of music, Mother's Day--items that the kids have created or that involve the kids in their use, Anniversary--events enjoyed as a couple, sans kids, and help us remember what it is like to be friends.  Some of them are items, but sometimes an event is fun, too.  If it's an event, she likes me to take care of all the details: reservations, childcare, transportation, parking, etc. 


Every question takes some of the mystery out of buying the perfect gift, and she always appreciates that I'm asking!

The young, the smooth, Mr. O.

I'm doing a lot of reminiscing lately about the early days, when Mrs. O. was not yet Mrs. O.  I was thinking about a funny story of our first 'real' date.  Thank you Mrs. O. for sticking with me!

We had begun spending a lot of time together and had become really good friends.  Inseparable, really.  So, we decided to go out to the Macaroni Grill for a date.  We had not actually been out on a date yet.  It was an interesting experience and we learned a few things on this date. 

First, conversation is more difficult when you're sitting directly across from someone.  I had never really thought about that before.  We usually had such an easy time talking to each other but there was a subtle awkwardness about this evening.  It's way easier if you're sitting on adjacent sides--close enough to talk comfortably, but not staring each other down.


Second, and this is the good one, we learned that our families dine in distinctly different ways.  Not-yet-Mrs. O. grew up in a family that shares every bit of food--no beverages.  I on the other hand grew up in a family that protects our food like Fort Knox protects gold bullion.  I was not offended by the offer of sharing food, but not enticed by it, either!


The nexxus of our dining experience came with dessert.  I don't remember what I got.  My memory of the evening is completely devoted to the events that surround the chocolate cake covered with a conservative splash of ganache.  It was wholly unappetizing to me.  I mean, who would bake a cake and 'forget' the most important part: the butter cream icing.  What is ganache anyway, but a thickened chocolate syrup that belongs on an ice cream sundae.  I digress...so, they bring the dessert and not-yet-Mrs. O. offers up a share of her un-iced (for all intents and purposes) chocolate cake.  To which I replied...are you ready for this?  "If I'd wanted it, I would have ordered it!" 


No, really.  I'm not kidding.  I said that.  Smooth.  Classy.  I do fancy myself something of a lady's man.


I thought she was going to cry.  She was humiliated.  Embarrassed.  I don't even remember whether I smartened up enough to have a piece of the cake, but she was gracious enough not to shove her fork down my throat the next time I opened my mouth! 


Ahhh,  good times!


Note to self: Eat the cake.

30th Birthday Bomb

So, Mrs. O.’s birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks.  I’m not exactly sure what to get her.  I have a couple of ideas.  I want to have a great plan for the events of the day.  That is all still in the works.  One thing is certain, though.  I don’t want to repeat last year!

Last year was a big one, too.  I got her a great gift.  I got her a Wii.  She had mentioned a few times that she liked the idea and thought it would be so much fun.  I just KNEW she would love it.  She did!  I gave it to her the weekend before her birthday so we could enjoy a couple of days to play it since her birthday fell in the middle of the week and I’d be working that day.  Success!  Or maybe not...

It came down to the day before her ACTUAL birthday.  I asked her what she wanted to do...nothing.  Hmmm.  I know what that means.  You want me to know what you want to do on your birthday, right?  I mean, who wants to plan her own birthday party...well, we really already had our birthday party.  We had a combined 30th celebration between our birthdays at Chuck E. Cheese’s.  We’re so weird.  

So, I ask again...really, do you want to do another celebration?  Big?  Little?  Cake?  Ice Cream?  The answer: I just don’t want to have to make dinner.  Other than that, it really isn’t that big of a deal.  Done.  Success again...until later the next afternoon.

Day of Mrs. O.’s birthday: I go to work as usual.  We’ll have cake and ice cream with friends at 7 after having a family dinner at an Italian chain that we both really enjoy.  We’ll meet for dinner at 5:30.  I’ll be able to be out of work by then easily as long as everything goes smoothly. 

3:00 pm:  *Long deep breath*  What’s that law again...Murphy’s law...Yeah, BIG catastrophe.

4:30 pm: We’re up to our eyeballs in half-thought-out solutions, I’m supposed to be leaving and it’s my job to fix the problem.  What now?  I call Mrs. O.  Me: It’s ok, you just go ahead and leave for the restaurant.  I’ll be there shortly.  It’s just a little...er...catastrophe!  

5:00 pm: No real progress.  Still up to our eyeballs.  I know I’ve failed by this point.  I’m not sure how to rescue the evening.  I call again.  Mrs. O.: It’s fine.  No problem.  I’ll just take the kids home.  We’ll find something for dinner.  Come home as soon as you can.  Do you have a cake?  Oh.  Our friends are coming at 7, right?  It’s ok...I’ll pick one up...Click.

6:30 pm: I’m home!  Mrs. O. and kids are eating left over meatloaf.  Friends are arriving to eat the cake that Mrs. O. herself picked up at the Wally World bakery only moments before.  Oh, good.  She remembered...to get.  Ice.  Cream.  

Note to self: don’t ever let that happen again!