Because my birthday coincides nicely with the end of the financial year, I am normally treated to gifts sourced from stationary shops, as they can be delayed a tax deduction. Take for instance this lovely office charm I am currently perched upon. And that lovely desk compendium just over there.
But this year I gave the old ball and chain the heads up that I would be shopping for my own birthday gifts from the family. I must say, there was a small look of relief that flooded his expression. I think he was thinking, what my reaction would be to a new printer. Again.
Now let me declare, shopping for your own birthday gifts is just about the most funnest thing you can do. I took along a good friend and a hunting we did go. The thing about shopping for your own birthday gifts is that there can be no normal guilt association that can come about from spending ones hard-earned money on oneself. I am normally like… “Oh that is lovely, but that massive electricity bill is set to hit….” whereas a sensible person would actually buy the beautiful cardigan and use it instead of the heater….
So I bought frivolous things that I would never buy for myself….
And each time I felt a little guilty, I reminded myself of everything I do for this little family, and handed across that credit card with a smile.
Come birthday morning, each male member of the family presented me with a gift, lovingly wrapped by myself. It worked out marvellously. I was completely THRILLED with my presents.
I unwrapped the softest scarf that Jack gave me, and squealed with delight, which made him SQUEAL with delight! I thanked him profusely, and he told me about how he went to Chatswood and found it and paid for it with his pocket-money………….
We all sort of looked at each other, then looked back at his BEAMING little face. I decided to go along with it, because the whole thing was ridiculous to start with and why confuse the situation with the truth.
