A big, whopping gift
Deanne is notoriously apathetic about Christmas and birthday gifts. If I buy something for myself anytime within six weeks of either, she'll say, "Is that your [Christmas/birthday] gift?" meaning, "Does this mean I don't have to get you anything?" I'm the one who usually does all our Christmas shopping.
But this year, Deanne ordered something for me from Menard's. She saved up her own spending money and gave me cash to put in the checkbook to back up the check she wrote. I counted it out, and was staggered. What could she be possibly getting me at that
price? From Menard's?
Then she told me we'd have to go get it in the truck. And when it was obvious that I couldn't lift or lug anything, she arranged to have it delivered -- and paid another whopping fee for that! As careful as ða wif
is with money, this had to be a humdinger of a gift.
I ran through all the things I had ever possibly expressed a wish for. And of the one or two items I might have said I wanted, I knew we had no place to put them. Then, she said, it would have to be assembled. Egad. What could this be? And what if it was something I might not want? I prepared myself to be "delighted," whatever it might be.
Well, it was delivered this morning, in the box. It's a table saw
with all the goodies. I was floored. She really outdid herself this time. I really am delighted.