CHRISTMAS GIFT

Every year he asks her what she’d like for Christmas.

Every year she responds, “I have everything I want,” and she means what she says. (At least she believes she means it, or she wants to believe that she means it.)

Every year he gets her something anyway.

She receives whatever it might be with a mix of indignation and surprise. (Though she isn’t really surprised, and not so bent out of shape.)

One year it is a new laptop computer. She wonders why; thinks it too extravagant. She encourages everyone else to use it. Until, finally, she relents.

Now she goes to bed each night with her laptop propped on top of the bedding, like a tray table over her outstretched legs.

She can’t imagine life without it.

One year he gifts her with a fancy Kitchen Aide mixer.

Once again, she receives it with a mix of indignation and surprise. (She secretly wishes for a Kitchen Aide, just not that model.) But he already knows that. He gently explains he bought the better model. Not the one that tilts.

She props it on the counter, in the corner, where it stays for days, even weeks, untouched. Then one day, she gives it a whirl.

Now at least once a week, she makes homemade dough with the mixer.

She can’t imagine life without it.

With each passing year, he gives her everything she needs. But still, he finds a way to give more, until she realizes she can’t live without it — or him.

… and so it goes.

(for Rick)