The first Christmas present my wife ever gave me was glossy, large-format book Doctor Who – The Eighties. It’s a great book, and a great gift, and frankly if we hadn’t already been engaged it would probably have sealed the deal.
Buying presents can be difficult. Especially when you first get together, there’s a real anxiety about wanting to get the perfect gift – even though the recipient, equally anxious, will probably say they love it anyway, whatever you give them.
It gets easier, and in some ways Mrs Curnow is very easy to buy for because of all the many hints she drops. On the other hand, it’s sometimes hard to know which hints to take! I feel like Stan Ogden (not something I say often) when he observed that Hilda looked “in so many shop windows”.
But there’s also the desire to surprise with something UNexpected. It can be risky of course – I don’t think I’m misremembering a camera that Grandpa gave Gran one year, to considerably less than a rapturous response. (Conversely, but equally unexpected, Mum was thrilled when Dad bought her a globe. (It takes all sorts.))
So present-buying has evolved into the predictable (or at least the hintable) mixed with the surprise. That’s pretty much like the relationship itself, and maybe if there’s anything to account for still being together, it’s that. I love my wife equally for the things I can rely and depend on her for, as for those moments of total unpredictability – whether it’s giving away sticky buns to a complete stranger, or her extraordinarily methodical microwave piercing.
Which is why, at Christmas and birthdays, although sewing stuff or crafty bits are an obvious gift, I still try to surprise her. This year I’ve got her a *r*** ***** ***** *o*!
I hope she likes it.
Andrew Curnow's Ramblings 