Husband and I have gotten each other some stinkers of gifts over the years. Not on purpose. I really thought he would like my painstakingly sewn bowling shirt complete with bowling pin buttons. And maybe the 36 by 24 inch oil painting wasn’t such a great idea while we were living on a sailboat. For his part, there are some jewelry purchases tarnishing quietly in my jewelry box. But both the rubber chicken and the squirrel-buster bird feeder were hits.
We have come to a tacit agreement that we’ll just spend gift money on things for us, like traveling and projects around our 160 year old house. This Christmas, we gave ourselves a low-flow toilet for our new bathroom (which is an anniversary- birthday- valentines-arbor day-sorry-I-left-your-table-saw-out-in-the-rain-all-rolled-into-one-for-a-few-years gift). Nothing says “I love you, let’s celebrate someone else’s religion” like knowing our poop has been disposed of in the most hydro-economical way possible.
These sunglasses would have been a great gift if they weren’t too big for my face. It’s too bad, they come with three different means to hold them, one does double duty as a glass cleaner. So even when I can’t find my sunglasses, I could be guaranteed to spot something that looks like it might contain them. Alas Maui Jims, you could have been a towel warmer!
listed on ebay