Kevin Page: Just when I thought it was all sorted

Hopefully Mrs P will like her Christmas gifts Photo / 123rf

OPINION

So, the big day is almost upon us and right up til the other day I was sure I had my wife's present sorted.

Then things turned to custard.

It all started with that conversation all husbands and wives have back in, say, mid-November.

You know the one I mean. That one where you both say you don't really need anything for Christmas and so you settle on a little $40 "something" you can each open on Christmas day.

Then you go away and think about it. And bigger and more expensive gifts you'd really like come to mind.

Hmm. Well, actually, you'd quite like that new golf putter you saw at the sports shop the other week or maybe it's that branded handbag you've always wanted but just can never remember it when you are put on the spot.

So, then you go back and reopen negotiations and on it continues.

At our humble abode Mrs P and I went through just that usual charade.

The only thing is when we came back to the table after we'd already bought the little somethings only one of us had a follow-up pressie request.

Me.

I wanted the aforementioned putter. At $150 I considered it a steal. More importantly it's within my meagre financial capabilities to be able to match it for a similarly priced gift for Mrs P. Because that's what you have to do guys, isn't it?

Now here's where it gets tricky.

She said she didn't want anything else.

She was happy with the "little something" I had already bought her for $40.

Initially the all-business side of me (read: tight-arse) was happy with that arrangement.

Not only would I be able to save a bit of extra money for my golf trip early next year and get a new putter, it appeared Mrs P wasn't concerned about the discrepancy in how much we would spend on each other.

Obviously, she might actually be happy with the old "it's the thought that counts" thing. That's the one we all mention to be noble but secretly inside we are super peeved and woe betide anything within range of a good swift boot as we sulk our way home.

Anyway.

It dawned on me a day or so later she might, in fact, be far from happy and left thinking I didn't care for her if I didn't do something extra. Maybe, when you think about it, psychologically her saying she didn't want anything extra was actually her saying she DID want something.

I think.

It was about then, as the lightbulb went on, I slapped my forehead with my palm in one of those "I am an idiot" moments.

Well, two can play at that game. If she was spending $150 extra on me I'd spend $200 extra on her and make sure it was the best damn Christmas she'd ever had. Ha, I'd show her.

And so off I went. Deep into the bowels of the retail monster until finally I stood before our Christmas tree, bloodied but unbowed from the experience, with three exquisitely wrapped extra parcels for the woman I love.

I have to admit I positively bathed in the smiling adoration coming back from my better half as she realised I'd pushed the boat out and she now had a stack of prezzies under the tree and not just the one she expected.

But I don't think when she opens them it will make a jot of difference to whether it's the best Christmas she's ever had.

That's already been decided.

Just as I put the extra presents under the tree the Boomerang Child turned up to tell us she's expecting a baby.