If there’s one thing that I’ve learned about my husband, it’s that he – under no circumstances – is interested in waiting for his gifts.
It doesn’t matter if it’s Christmas, his birthday or our anniversary. Brian’s eyes positively light up as he tears into his goodies.
Except I didn’t wrap his goodies yesterday… so there was no tearing. The most that I did was peel all of the prices off. I would have taken more time to package his gifts all cutesy and darling, but he was already suspicious at my late arrival home and wondered why prior to that I needed to “swing by the mall.”
“Don’t look!” I insisted as I walked through the door. I hurried to the guest bedroom, rustled around, then hurried back out to the living room with a Dicks Sporting Goods bag.
Brian only needed to hear that once before diving in.
Yes, for Brian’s birthday I got myself football receiver gloves.
But really that’s for him.
‘Cause I got him some, too.
And a football.
And some masculine Under Armor.
My hubby just loOoOoves football. Recently he participated in a football game about which neither he nor the guys from our church have stopped talking. More than once I’ve been told that Brian is “fearless” on the football field.
Well, I’ve never personally witnessed it. But since he seems to have had so much fun, the least that I can do is poop-scoop the yard and toss the football around with him! (Yes, even in the cold. I love him that much.) …That is… if we make it to the yard. Yesterday, upon opening his gifts, Brian promptly started throwing the football to me in the kitchen and in the living room.
That can’t end well.