Happy Father's Day

The men in my family are really hard to shop for, but for different reasons.  My brother-in-law Gabi (Gabriel) is the kind of man that finds an extra $20 and looks for ways to spend it on someone else.  My Dad, just as selfless, is difficult for a completely different reason.  As his birthday or holidays approach and he finds himself being asked for gift ideas, he spends more time contemplating what he wants and then goes to purchase those items for himself mere days before he might have received them as a gift.

Seriously, every year.

But my husband is a completely different animal.  His interests lie so far afield from my own that I am unable to come up with ideas myself.  If I am so lucky as to extract a suggestion from him, I go to purchase it from the nearest store only to discover that he's researched said gift, the available merchants, shipping practices, customer reviews, colors, sizes and quantities, and has determined a custom order so specific that a store return is simply unavoidable.

What I'm left with, year after year, is the gift certificate.  I'm not sure why I have such a negative feeling toward those little pieces of plastic.  After all, they do allow the recipient to pick and choose what they want, eliminating the need for countless returns and exchanges that, while toted as "a quick trip in while you wait in the car... no more than ten minutes, tops" turn into 45 minute shopping excursions as the boys scream and cry "where is Daddy?" from their car seats and I regret the 20oz. diet soda I drank on the way as I wiggle and dance and fear I might pee my pants.  All because I can't shop for my husband.

Ahem.  I got a little off-track there.  Sorry about that.

So this year, I bought a little of everything.  I got the customary gift certificate, but I also got a camping gear bag and a few camping gadgets, as well as a set of throwing knives.  (Something else he'd been wanting that I'll never understand.)  I got the wrong kind though, so those will need to be returned.  I'll make sure I haven't had anything to drink when that happens.

But as much as I tease, I can't pass up the opportunity to mention how, along with an enthusiastic love for returning gifts, my husband has an enthusiastic love for playing baseball with his sons, and wrestling on the living room floor.  He has a love for camping as a family and grilling dinner for us to eat.  He loves movie nights and ice cream runs and playing outside with the kids.

And if that's not worth a trip to Gander Mountain, I don't know what is.