Another Christmas come and gone and I've finally emerged this holiday as an adult - officially. You know how when you're younger - and even when you're older -- you open a gift with a bit of anticipation wrapped around unadulterated excitement. You just know, without a doubt that the next gift you open will be the absolutely perfect gift. There will be no better gift at all in the world -- NONE!!!! And, I'm hoping that for some of you, that gift turned into a reality. And if it has, then I'm a little bit envious. But to my recollection, I have never really had said gift opening experience. And, on top of that, I do not do a very good job of faking a pleased reaction. If I like someone or something, then you know it. But if I don't like something or someone, you know that too. I try to say the polite thing, but I can't seem to get my face and physical reaction to match the words that I say. So, opening presents is a bit of an endeavor in anxiety for me. Because I don't want to hurt someone's feelings, I really don't. So, getting me a gift, has also developed into a bit of an anxiety ridden experience. Coupled by the fact that because I know that no one will get me the gift that I want, I go ahead and buy what I want for myself when I can afford it - which limits even more possibilities for gifts that could be received and enjoyed at the same time. And as I am in the middle of my 39th year, I have finally realized that I can be happy that someone just cared enough to get me something. Of course, that may also come with the fact that I have 3 different groups of gifting (work, Jose's family, and my family and friends) so I can easily regift items without fear of hurting someone's feelings - and then I feel like the gift that I didnt' really want is actually money that can purchase something that I really do want - and then just enjoy the thought behind it. But, I will admit that when we were playing dirty santa at my dad's house this Christmas and I opened the oven mitt I was so very very very grateful that I got last pick because there was no way that I wanted that thing and am pretty sure that my sister stole it from me because she didn't care - or maybe she really wanted it, but who can figure wanting that. And it has taken me 39 years to tamp down my optimistic hope that I will open the perfect gift. THough I'm less hopeful. And Jose, god love him, isn't not a shopper. And when I thanked him in November for buying me the sketchers that I wanted (and specifically told him that I wanted when he asked and requested black and showed him my generic version of the shoe) and then refused to open it until after Christmas because I didn't want to waste my suprise present from Santa on a gift that I already knew what was... he responded .. you don't know what they look like (he was a bit discouraged that I saw the charge on the bank statement to which point I encouraged him to use cash if he didn't want me to know what he bought me). And he was right. I didn't know what they looked like and I did like them and was suprised. But how much nicer would it have been for him to know (after only 11 1/2 years of marriage) what I wanted without asking and I could have been totall suprised -- of course who are we kidding -- I'd probably be disappointed anyway -- really, it's my very own catch 22.
