QEII rang me to discuss the impending Yuletide season. I dread these conversations, particularly the bit where she asks, "What do you want for Christmas?" It's not that I don't love gittin' stuff as much as the next person, it's just that I can never think of anything. But this year I was prepared.
"Teatowels," I said. "Teatowels and - or - oven mitts. You can never have too much of either."
There was an awkward silence.
"I'm not getting you teatowels."
"But I love teatowels! Why ask me what I want and then when I tell you refuse to get it for me?!"
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"Anyway," I went on, "you'll be pleased to know you I already have your Christmas present."
She hates that. Because nothing can persuade me to tell her what it is, and she can't bear waiting to find out. Suffer in yer jocks, baby.
4 comments:
My parents have this exact conversation every year, except instead of "tea towels" my father says "socks" and my mother looks horrified and then goes off to buy him something he never uses. Ah, the holidays!
I bought the little red-haired girl some tea-towels and oven mits for her 21st birthday.
She didn't seem to take it as well as you would.
I hope and pray you are joking, Spudder, old bean.
They were a matching set, with roosters on them.
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