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The Best Christmas Present Ever
by Alan Barr
"What are you getting me for Christmas this year?" she asked him casually over breakfast one morning.

"I haven't thought of anything yet," he replied, slightly guiltily. "Is there anything you want?"

"There probably is - but I prefer it when you choose something. You know what they say - it's the thought that counts."

"But what if I choose wrong?"

"It doesn't matter. The pleasure for me is in knowing you've made the effort to go into the shop and look around and make the decision. I like to think of you being all awkward and out of your depth in the perfume department..."

"Or horribly embarrassed at the underwear counter?"

"Yes, even better! It shouldn't be too easy. It should require a bit of effort on your part - even a bit of pain."

"That's sadistic!"

"I don't care! And don't you want to know what I'm getting you?"

"You wouldn't tell me anyway!"

"No, of course I wouldn't. But I will tell you this - I've given it more thought than ever this year, and I've come up with something quite unusual, quite unlike anything I've ever given you before. It isn't cheap, but I'm sure you'll like it - once you've got over the surprise, that is. Yes, I think you'll like it very much indeed. You may even decide it's the best present ever."

"The best present ever? Now that is a confident claim!"

"Isn't it!"

"Don't I get a clue of some sort?"

"No, I don't think so. I want it to be a complete surprise."

He pretended to be deep in thought for a few seconds then raised a finger as if inspiration had suddenly struck. "Is it socks?"

"Damn! How did you guess?"

---oOo---
He didn't waste too much time pondering his mystery present. Like most men, Christmas didn't figure too prominently in his thoughts. It was something to be endured as much as enjoyed! To be honest, he didn't much care what she got him - he had everything he needed anyway. Whatever it turned out to be, he'd make the necessary appreciative noises. And he would be grateful too. Not so much for whatever weird and wonderful object it turned out to be, but because after nineteen years of marriage, she still cared enough to put that amount of effort into it. Now, what the hell was he going to get her?

---oOo---
Do you have anything planned for Christmas Eve?" she asked him casually over breakfast one morning.

"No, nothing."

"Only I thought I might pop out for a drink with Doreen after dinner."

"Fine." Why had she even bothered to mention it, he wondered.

"So, could you make sure you're in all evening?"

He raised a quizzical eye over the corner of his newspaper. "Does it matter?"

"Yes it does. That's when your present is being delivered."

"Oh, I see. Well, yes, I'll be here. But can you trust me not to open it? That's the question!"