Last night my stepdaughter staggered into our house carrying a large, and obviously very heavy, box wrapped in Christmas paper. “It’s a gift for you from Daddy,” she explained. “I’ve been storing it in my trailer for him. But I don’t have room for it anymore. Where can I put it?”
I suggested under the tree… only it wouldn’t fit. So now it is standing in a corner of the dining room.
The package is very tall. What could it be? And where will I put whatever-it-is after I unwrap it tomorrow? Our small house is filled to capacity already.
I hope this isn’t going to be another one of those “what was my husband thinking” gifts. He is a wonderful man and we love each other very much. I am super blessed to be married to my best-friend-husband. We didn’t meet until we were in our fifties, and after half a century without him, I really know how lucky I am.
My mantra on every gift giving occasion in the eleven-plus years of our marriage:
It’s the thought that counts.
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