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This week has been very stressful. Between work and the kids being sick everyone was tense. As a result my husband and I were arguing; about everything. Of course, we made up. As the protocol goes, big fight = big present. This time though when he entered the house with a giant bag and I looked at the label...I knew it was going to take everything in me to prevent another bigger, badder, meaner argument.
But don't let me jump the boat. I need you to see the bigger picture. My husband has always apologized with my favorite accessory. (No one said he wasn't a smart man.) But instead of getting better and better and knowing my taste over the years, I'm worried that he's either :
A. In desperate need of new glasses
B. seeing another woman with much different taste then me or
C. being hostile with his gift giving
Here is a selection of purses I received after fights during the first six years of marriage:
Luis Vuitton, Dooney and Bourke, Big Buddha, a real Italian Bag. There were even Coaches and Gucci's I didn't include. Nice, right? The fighting is totally worth it! But not so much any more. Because now my party gifts for fighting have been sub par to say the least. And when I don't jump for joy and look like I love them, I seem like an ungrateful bitch.
Yesterday was the worst of them all. Yes, worse then the Target imitation of a Coach bag. Here it is:
Yikes, right! My first thought was that it was a joke. My husband is notorious for his pranks. But when I giggled, and his face went from happy to disappointed in a millisecond, I knew he was dead serious about his selection.
“Thanks, but did you look at this bag and actually think of me?” I asked. (As nice as I could.)
“You are impossible, Lauren. “Can't you just pretend to like it? For me.”
“I mean, its just so bad. I can't carry it. Would you want to be seen with me with this on my shoulder?”
“Yes. I like it.”
“It doesn't match anything...it has rhinestones on it.” I giggle.
I flipped the bag over to see if I could spare his feelings and carry it backwards. Nope. It was cheap black vinyl; and it's 85 degrees out. I just can't do it. The purse was going to need to be returned.
I looked at the bag to see where I'd be making my secret exchange. Oh, no. He got it at Claire's Boutique. He must have got thrown by the word “Boutique” and not realized it was a store for Tweens. A place where little girls get their ears pierced when they are six, and buy stickers and headbands in bright colors. Not a place to buy your thirty-four year old wife a gift. There was no way I could do an exchange there. I was going to need to do a full blown money back exchange. This was definitely going to make things worse...but I couldn't let twenty-five dollars go to waste. And I also couldn't risk having him suggesting me carry that thing on our biweekly date nights.
“Hey, is the receipt for that purse in the bag?” I asked. (In my sweetest and most innocent voice.)
“Well, can I have it?”
“I need to actually return the bag. You know for money. Not exchange it.”
“Seriously, Lauren. Can't you try to spare my feelings.”
And then I said it, all in one breath: “You didn't spare my feelings when you thought I'd carry that thing. How did I get downgraded so far from Louis Vuitton and Gucci to extremely cheap vinyl? I don't need designer brands, but this is just well, this is just ugly.”
“I like it. It's trendy. It has hot pink tiger stripes.” He said and handed me the receipt.
“Coral and Turquoise are this years colors!” I replied.
Later at night we nicely discussed the situation. He admitted that the girl who sold him the bag was wearing braces and was covered in zits. I gave him a list of tips for buying me things in the future:
I accepted his apology for whatever we were fighting about, which we had both forgotten, but we were sure it was his fault AND he also apologized for the purse. What a good husband!