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For the 30 years of our marriage, my husband has asked me to manage a task that has traumatized him since childhood. I am in charge of buying gifts for his mother.
As a newlywed, I embraced this challenge. I picked out designer handbags, belts and scarves from the best stores, seeing to it that they were wrapped beautifully, and delivered in prestigious shopping bags.
My mother-in-law loved the shopping bags, but the gifts themselves were always returned, within days and sometimes within hours.
Towards the end of the first decade, I suggested that we stick to Hallmark cards and flowers. But my husband, a dutiful and loving only child, made it clear that he was not going to take that guilt trip.
And so it was, last summer, when our cruise ship docked in Denmark, that two of our eight precious hours on shore were dedicated to selecting a blue-and-white salad bowl in his mother’s Royal Copenhagen china pattern.
I thought we’d nailed it, but — no. The bowl was too fancy. Since it was impractical to return this purchase to Denmark, it was dispatched to a closet, one filled with other rejects, and stacks of classy shopping bags.
In response, I announced my retirement from this spousal duty. But when the holidays came around, the question arose once more: What to get the woman who returns everything?