One of my favorite birthday gifts last year? A sweet homemade "gift" card from my Mister, promising all the love and labor that goes into painting a kitchen in desperate need of an entire makeover. I treasured that little card, tucking it securely under my pillow every night for safekeeping, and the hope that it would somehow seep its magic into my dreams, and set the stage for all sorts of wonderful.
Fast-forward to December:
Him: "Babe, what do you want for Christmas this year?"
Me: "Nothing. I really don't need anything. I haven't really had a chance to work out the budget either, so I don't really want to spend money I'm not sure about."
Him: "Don't be crazy. You're getting a Christmas present, so you may as well just tell me what you want."
Me: "Okay. I think I just want...my birthday present."
Confession: it's always fun to render one's husband speechless.
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| Mister, making good on his promise, and Littlest, "helping." |
{all for now.}
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