I broke the news to Dave early on Friday as we were packing to go camping over the weekend.

“Uhhhhh, just so you know, I didn’t get you squat for Father’s Day.”

This time I meant it.  Other times I have asked him gently to expect nothing on his birthday, our anniversary, or Father’s Day only to feel badly or inspired at the last minute, running out to buy him something cool.  But given our anticipated weekend circumstances, unless he was hoping for a tree branch, a few ticks, or a homemade s’more, I wasn’t going to have time to pick anything up, not even a card.

Dave and I aren’t huge present people.  I don’t think gifts mean all that much to either of us.  More often than not, rather than exchanging Hanukah or anniversary gifts we tell each other “we’ll get something for the house” and never do. 

I wish I was a Present Wife, not to be confused with a trophy wife because who wants trophy on Father’s Day?  That’s just silly.  But some wives are really good at buying gifts for the husbands on the designated occasions.  I think I would be one of these wives if I had more time on my hands.  I would shop and delight him with wonderful surprises, spend hours with the boys making homemade crafts that he will keep forever, and cook his favorite meal.  I think I can manage one of those things every few years. This year I couldn’t manage any.

Actually, he didn’t seem to mind so much.  Probably because he knew the guilt I felt was worth more than anything I would buy him in a store.  Guilt is very valuable currency around here.

“I’ll make it up to you,” I tell him and give him a wink.

Any woman who has been married for more than 10 years knows exactly what this means.  And so does Dave.

Rest assured, he had a very Happy Father’s Day.   

Stay tuned for Wednesday’s post on our weekend camping adventure INCLUDING a white water river rescue in which we ACTUALLY saved a few lives.  Really.  I wouldn’t lie.
Share and Enjoy:
  • Digg
  • del.icio.us
  • email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter