Being a husband is tough!
Normally when I start out a column with a statement like that, readers tend to sit back and get a laugh out of the paragraphs that follow, which tend to house some kind of funny story about my still-young married life.
This however, has nothing to do with a funny story about Abby and I. In fact, it could be a true testament for all husbands during any special occasion, especially Christmas.
I tell myself every year that I will not wait until the last second before I wrap up my Christmas shopping for Abby Jo.
Nonetheless, this year was just like Christmases past.
This past weekend I did the unthinkable when I drove to Lexington with intentions of running in the mall, quickly, to buy her a few gifts.
I had in mind what I was going to get her and after 20 minutes of driving around the parking lot in search of a space to pull ol’ Bessie into, I finally found one, which I believe was in a different zip code than of Fayette Mall.
As I walked through the doors the sense of “quickly” getting in and out was as real as pink flying elephants. This was not going to be a short visit.
Regardless, I remained positive as I was forced to walk slowly behind the massive blob of people, who in fact thought that they owned the place, judging by the looks they gave me as I tried weaving in and around them.
My head started spinning after the third store that I walked in as I tried to remember all 10,000 of the subtle hints that Abby Jo had been filling me with since this time last year.
All I could think about was; you better get it right or you will never hear the end of it.
Fortunately, I got all my shopping done and I was somewhat confident in my choices.
For my efforts, I decided to treat myself to a steak at O’Charley’s.
As I sat down to enjoy my meal, I began to doubt myself. Did I get what she wanted? Was there something that I forgot?
Women are so hard to shop for. Give men a gift card to our favorite store or just a nice shirt with our favorite sport team on it and we smile.
Women, however tend to require a little more thought, which I guess is not a bad thing, but it can sure make for a stressful afternoon.
Now that the shopping is over and my breath is held until she opens her gifts on Christmas morning, I am vowing right now that next year will be different.
A late season drive to the mall will not be happening for this guy.
Instead, I think I will take Marilyn Monroe’s advice when she sang about diamonds being a girl’s best friend.