A couple weeks back, the wife announced that she knew what she was going to get me for my birthday.
"But I don't think it will get here by your birthday," she added. "Do you want to know what it is?"
"No," I said. "I want to be surprised." For you see, unlike SOME PEOPLE, I don't feel the need to pester my loved ones for hints as to what my presents are until they accidentally let something slip or allow a stay psychic impulse to float into the air where I can catch it and ruin their day by guessing my present.
So she let it go... for the moment. But did warn me that I was not allowed to go to our bank's website and snoop, for the charge would soon be appearing there. Uh huh, I thought.
On last Saturday, the day before my birthday on which we went out for my birthday dinner, the wife reminded me that while she had a card picked out, she did not yet have my gift. "It will be here Thursday," she said. "Do you want to know what it is?"
"Do you want a hint?"
"No. I don't want to guess it and make you mad that I ruined the surprise."
"You'll never guess it," she said, tauntingly.
"That's right," I said. And then demonstrated this by not guessing at all.
On the day of my birthday, she again began plying me for guesses.
"C'mon! What do you think it is?"
"No, I don't want to guess and spoil it!"
"You're never gonna guess. You would never expect this."
"Okay, so give me a hint," I said.
She was reluctant at first to even hint, but when I pointed out that I always give her hints (and she always winds up guessing anyway even though my hints are immaculate), she relented.
"It's classy," she said. "But you'll just use it for nerdness."
Well, that was no good, cause that could be said about a great many things. But it was a start. So I asked if it was something we both could use.
"Yeah," she said, though there was something in her voice that made me thing Not so much.
"Is it an item of clothing?"
I thought some more and then started putting the pieces of the puzzle I did have together. Whatever it was would probably be from a specialty store that is instantly recognizable for a single type of product; cause if it was from Amazon or eBay or an other online store, it wouldn't matter if I saw it on our bank site because just seeing the online shop's title wouldn't give away
what it was. I told this to the wife.
"No, it could still give it away," she said. After all, if it was through eBay, our PayPal payment could be listed as having been made to an online retailer, such as WhoNA, purveyor of all things nerdy and Doctor Who-related. Did she get me a Tardis cookie jar? Nah, she'd never think that was classy. (Plus it would compete for counter space with my Darth Vader-head cookie jar.)
She pestered me for more guesses as to the actual identity of the item and I gave her a few, but still she wanted one last one.
And suddenly, out of thin air, I knew what it was. It was an item from a specialized company, the very name of which is recognizable for a similar line of products that speak of both class and quality. It was something I would not have otherwise expected. It was something I would use for nerding. All the clues added up and the sum was a certainty.
"I know what it is," I said. Oh, I should have kept my mouth shut.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I can't tell you. It will ruin it."
"No. Go ahead."
I steeled myself and said, "You got me Bose headphones."
There was a long pause before she said, "I'll never tell."
I explained to her my deductions on it, noting that I had, just two weeks back, mentioned that I thought I would soon be needing a new pair of headphones as I'd accidentally dipped the right earphone of my Zen Vision's pair into the water fountain at the gym and it just hadn't sounded right since. I must have even subconsciously suspected headphones might be involved, because I nearly bought a pair of new phones while in the mall the night before, but put them back at the last second, fearing I might spoil something.
The wife continued to ply me for hints and guesses afterward, but I was pretty sure she was only doing so in order to conceal that I'd nailed it.
Yesterday, upon my arrival home from work, she presented me with a gift bag in which I found a new pair of Bose in-ear headphones. They're spectacular! The sound is just everything I'd hoped for in a headphone. They fit quite comfortably in my ears and the sound seems to be coming from somewhere in the center of my cranium.
"Do you love them?" the wife asked.
"I haven't known them long enough to love them," I said. "But I think I might be in lust."