It's no secret that Neville and I don't buy each other gifts. When we met we were both poor, struggling college students. I never had extra money in college. And if I did have extra money it went to something more exciting than buying Neville a present. Like going out to 99 Bottles to drink with my friends so that we could get our plaque on the wall for trying all 99 Bottles of Beer that are sold there. And let me tell you, there are some nasty beers that had to be drunk in order to accomplish that high honor.
Anyways, Neville and I remained gift-less for years. As I got to know my closed-book partner, I realized it was a very good thing that we didn't exchange gifts. Neville is the kind of guy that would buy you a vacuum for Christmas and then totally not understand why you were upset that he bought you a vacuum for Christmas. If gift giving a way to show love, no one would ever think that Neville loved them. He's not a gift giver.
Since Darius was two, we started the tradition of Christmas Stockings. I buy favorite candy, small trinkets, and new underwear. Because everyone knows that's it practically bad luck to not get new socks or underwear in your Christmas stocking. For three years, I've filled Neville's stocking with new socks, or new undershirts, or new tightie whities. For three years, I've search for his favorite gummy candies and bought a classic movie that he loves.
And for three years, I've had to the same for myself. Because Neville isn't a gift giver. Because most moms have to fill their own stockings on Christmas. Because if I didn't put something in my stocking then my stocking would be empty on Christmas morning.
This Christmas Eve, after Darius had gone to bed, while Neville and I were cuddling on the couch watching A Christmas Carol, I slyly asked him if he had put anything in my stocking. I already knew the answer, so you could say I was setting him up. I probably was. When he laughed it off and said that he "never gets anything," my blood began to boil and within a matter of 4 seconds I was totally pissed off.
How difficult is it to buy one small thing? A little chocolate Santa? Cheap socks from the Dollar Store? Hell two days before he gave a Starbucks card that he had received from a vendor at work. The man could have saved that $10 gift-card and PUT IT MY STOCKING on effing Christmas Eve. I didn't expect to get so upset about it. But there I was, practically in tears, over the idea that my spouse didn't love me enough to put a bunch of crap in a giant sock on a holiday that he doesn't even celebrate. There I was huffing and puffing and oh so mad. On Christmas Eve.
I eventually calmed down and realized that I was just slightly overreacting about the whole situation. Neville is a wonderful man, flaws included. And that while I wished that he would be a little more generous with gifts, I knew this about the man from the very beginning. It didn't bother me ten years ago, why did it bother me now? This wasn't a deal breaker. I blame my blow up on a serious Sees Candies sugar crash. It was irrational. I apologized and went to bed. Clearly I was too tired to even think straight.
When Darius awoke on Christmas morning, there was much excitement. It was CHRISTMAS and SANTA WAS HERE and LOOK HE ATE MY COOKIE and WOW LOOK AT ALL THE PRESENTS and THIS IS THE BEST CHRISTMAS OF MY ENTIRE LIFE. While the Chai tea was finishing on the stove, I said that we could all open our stockings. Darius oohed and ahhed over the little treasures. Neville happily opened his sour gummies. I didn't bother to open my stocking, I already knew what was in it. My MIL had given me a new pair of slippers. I had bought some a new lipgloss and small box of peanut brittle. While I was no longer mad at Neville over the stocking debacle, I was still a little sore from it.
There may be women who love to buy their own presents for their husbands. I realized, for the first time in our ten years together, that I am not one of the those women. I'd be happy if Neville bought me a vacuum on Christmas. At least then I'd know that he thought of me. He thought of something that I needed. And he took the time to buy it, wrap it, and place it under the tree. Going the way of no gifts wasn't just the easy way out, it was unhealthy for our relationship.
While I sat passively participating in what Darius later called the BEST DAY OF HIS LIFE, I saw a little something peeking out of my stocking. I slowly pulled out a long thin box from my stocking, opened it, and saw a beautiful single strand pearl necklace.
I don't know if he planned it all along or if my over-dramatics the night before caused him to run out a get something quick. He still says that Santa must of put it there.
All I know for sure is that it isn't a vacuum.
