From A Man’s Perspective

Well, I have given my wife her Christmas fix for another year. All the lights are up in all their beady little glory. And, praise be to God, with what only can be described as a miracle from Heaven, every string of lights actually worked! I even gave them a shake or two to make certain they weren’t sinisterly planning an outage once hung. My local department store should be sending me a letter of condolences any time now, voicing their concerns over my lack of seasonal patronage, their only conclusion being that I either kicked the bucket or am on the verge. I’m sure the thought never entered their minds that my Christmas lights actually worked two years in a row. That would be crazy thinking!

I did win one small victory. I nervously suggested to the wife that instead of hanging lights along our home’s eaves, that I simply circle the front and garage doors with lights. And then make a lighting extravaganza of the front flower bed and cherry tree, using the lights that would have adorned the eaves of the house. That meant all work being done at ground level, with no ladder needed. I made a quick double-take to make certain I had the right woman in the house when my wife surprisingly went along with my idea. Usually she seldom agrees with me on anything if, for no other reason, it was not her idea instead of mine.

She did throw one unexpected curve at me. She decided one Christmas tree in the house was not enough. Because the main tree is in the living room, an area we seldom use, so seldom see the tree, she came up with the idea to put a smaller artificial tree in the front room and kitchen area so we could have one to enjoy. In actuality, the only time I would notice the second tree is if I erected it between my recliner and the television. But being gleefully relieved of not having to climb a ladder countless times outside, her added chore seemed a small price to pay.

Now she is out Christmas shopping. And I never…I mean NEVER accompany her, whether it’s Christmas shopping, or any other form of shopping for that matter! My version of shopping is entering the store, walking straight to what I plan to purchase, purchase it, and then leave the store…PERIOD! Her version of shopping is touching and looking at everything in a store at least once before ever thinking about what she planned to purchase in the first place. It makes absolutely no difference that she has no thought to buy it, what ever is in her path, it has to be touched and fondled. On the rare occasions I found myself shopping with her, I have almost worn out my eyeballs rolling them to the back of my head while she goes through this ritual. Of course, behind her back, but still rolling my eyes.

And she also loves hunting for sales. Every Sunday the advertisements in our newspaper are her target. Just as surely as me making our morning breakfast, which, by the way, I enjoy doing, I’ll hear the tearing out of coupons. Food from the supermarket, I understand, and actually look at as a great part of why I love her. But she’ll proudly bring home an item that she saved $3.89 on at a  clothing store thirty plus miles away from a store just up the road that has the same item not on sale. Of course she spent $10.00 in gas getting to this distant location, but that’s not even a consideration. I would make mention of this obvious mathematical equation if it were not for my satisfaction as to where my Adam’s apple is currently located.

My final conclusion, which is a conclusion I hope will succeed in lowering the frustration level of those ladies reading this post, is that she considers shopping as being a form of entertainment. I’m sorry. I am a man. This is the best I can come up with. And there is nothing wrong with that, the only condition being that that form of entertainment not be forced on me. After years of marriage, my wife has figured that one out all on her own. My plan, which was quite successful I might add, was for her to feel rushed as I obediently followed her around a store. But while walking I strategically placed intermittent bored sighs. I mean, come on! What she is doing makes no sense. Of course, don’t bother me while I’m feeling plastic worms and shaking fishing rods while in the fishing section. Now that makes total sense!

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