At first I wasn’t going to write about this, and then I thought how can I NOT write about this. I didn’t want to come across as bashing my husband, that isn’t the point of this at all, but I really think it’s a good story so I’m going to do it anyways.
So. Mother’s Day. Yes, another holiday that I hate, and I’m a Mother. I hate the fact that we are guilted into buying crap for another crap holiday. I hate that we are fed super annoying Facebook statuses of people professing their love for their mom, to the world. I get it, you’re mom is cool, perhaps just call her or send her a note next year. No one wants to hear about how amaze your mom is. I love my mother, but I’ll call her up and say ‘Hey Mum, you’re awesome, I love ya, bob’s your uncle, let’s move on’.
I also didn’t want to bash Facebook in this post, but whatever. I move forward.
Mother’s Day…Father’s Day…Birthdays. I don’t know, I abhor celebrations that A. involve the barrage of guilt over not buying the right gift, or spending the right amount of money, or B. dealing with getting gifts that I don’t want.
I’m not ungrateful, I just literally don’t want anything. I don’t want to fake the ‘I love it!’ when really I think to myself, Oh my god, how do I get out of placing this horrendous monstrosity in my house? I’m a grown person, I work, I have money. If I want something I buy it. I don’t need anything. A bottle of wine is ok I guess, I don’t know. I just think of all that money being thrown around for useless tea cozies and gaudy candle holders when kids are starving in Africa. Call me crazy.
So on this note, I said on Saturday, ‘DON’T BUY ME ANYTHING’. Now you might be thinking, it was only on Saturday that you said this, maybe your husband picked up a gift already? Maybe he ordered something a month ago? Maybe you will love it!
I know Troy and guys in general, they buy their gifts within the 24 hours prior to any event. It’s a simple anthropological fact. So I said it. DON’T BUY ME ANYTHING.
An hour later Troy tells me ‘Finn and I are going for a bike ride (whisper, whisper), we’ll be back in an hour. I said again ‘DON’T BUY ME ANYTHING’. ‘Nope we’re going for a bike ride!’
But I knew. And so the next morning I went for a run and low and behold I come home to my wonderful gift, being thrust in my face as soon as I walk in, accompanied by an ‘It’s returnable’ statement.
Well, now I know it’s going to be awesome.
The kids are screaming, OPEN IT! I am screaming internally (well fuck, I gotta look uber grateful now).
And then I opened it…
But first let me preface by posting some pictures of things I love, things that reflect my personal style, things I have around my house, things I covet…
The Saarinen table, which I have wanted for YEARS. I just can’t afford 5,000 right now. Sigh…
Kraken. And Pink. Boom. Love it. I mean I have a giant tattoo on my stomach of an octopus – huge bells there right?
Anything by West Elm is a safe bet and these geometric pillows are similar to many things I have in my house…like everywhere.
A beautiful beautiful print…
Anything gold. Anything.
I have two antlers in my living room (one is wood, one is made from yarn), I mean I go for the freaky weird, it’s obvious. Plus the antlers are yellow – my favourite color.
Another beautiful print.
I have wanted a tivoli radio for I dunno, about 10 years now…
Mid century modern furniture gets my heart beating wildly.
Alright…so I think you get the picture. Let me next preface that I don’t cook, and I rarely bake unless it’s winter. Now let’s see what I was given…
Let me let that sink in a little bit…
A little more…
Ok, can you picture Troy in the store, the poor guy, getting coerced (yes that was his answer), into buying this for me?
A homemade apron for ME.
And for Wren’s doll.
But ok, I would be alright with this if it was neon yellow, or a geometric print, or BLACK even. But it’s this gramma cookie print, with brown accents, white stitching and my god, let’s go back to the cookie print. So many cookies so little time…
Even my bedspread on which these items are displayed is the exact opposite of these three items.
Even Wren refused to wear it. But to the end, I can’t return it. I can’t for many reasons. Finn would be crushed, and I mean, the guilt I would feel for returning an item that was probably made by some cute gramma, toiling away at this wee version for little girls’ doll.
No. I can’t return it EVER.
So I’ll end this post on a note to my husband — who I’ve already told last night — possesses so many amazing qualities that I am ok overlooking his terrible gift selection skills and poor party planning abilities. I will continue to buy my own things, and I will plan my own parties (hence my birthday in a few weeks that I’ve had to take over in order to save the day).
Oh and next time you are visiting me, my wonderful friends, I will don this apron and serve you signature cocktails on my Saarinen table :)