So I run into this friend of ours. He's a master of the meaningful question, the non-small talk. And he's all I hope your holiday season isn't too hectic.
And I'm all well we keep it pretty okay, I think. And I think I should have stopped there but his piercing eyes just kind of kept looking at me. Which in retrospect was I think a meaningful moment of silent affirmation of my attempt at Christmas peace before he moved on with his day, but I tend to go a little nuts when people look at me intensely and quietly so did I shut up there? Nooooooo.
I'm all, for one thing, I refuse to Christmas shop. And he's all well I bet that helps! And I'm all, yes my family doesn't really do gifts, too many people, and Jeff's family does but I refuse to take over that job for him. I just couldn't do it. I can't compete with those women. They are really great gift givers and they give things that involve photos of cats. Which I secretly love but cannot, simply cannot compare to. So I told Jeff that he had to do all the shopping for his family. It was a little bit of a scandal at first, because they all assumed I would just take over the Jeff family gift giving. I tried when we were first married but I just gave really stupid things, or to the wrong people, so now I just stay out of it.
And he's backing away, all, scandal...
And I continue, all unable to stop myself, it kind of works out because if he gets presents they think he's all wonderful and give him lots of extra credit for being a SENSITIVE MAN, and if he doesn't give anything they don't care because he's so busy and anyway he's a MAN so I think it's a win-win for everyone but then I usually get some nice hand cream out of it because my mother-in-law gives really nice hand cream for gifts.
And he's all backing away from me, possibly bored stiff, offended, or late to whatever I had kept him from with my incessant blathering about my thinly veiled lazy sexism.
And he's all, I have a thing I have to be at...bye...
And you know I do this ALL the time. If I ever possessed any internationally interesting information--military intelligence and the like--all they would have to do was just sit there and look at me meaningfully, and I would chatter away to fill up the silence. That terrorist you're after? He's behind that curtain over there. The code? Oh! Yes! I have that! Do you want it? It's 8795! Anything else?