Every year, every year, I try and try. Every year, man, it just don’t work.
I mean, what does that woman want? Ain’t no one can please her, ya know? Like this one time, this one time, I knew she was gonna love this sweater. She had several like it. Perfect color of blue – her favorite color. You know the color like that one girl’s eyes that mirror the skies. You know the girl, she and I went out a few times. Jessica. Oh, you don’t remember the color? Blue of a perfect sunny day that snaps and pops. That kind of blue. Well, anyway, she said the sleeves were too long and she took it back. Who complains that sleeves are too long? Me? I just push ‘em up. Another time, I really put some thought into it. Dug deep. She loves gardening, digging in the dirt. I bought her some rose bushes, special ones, like those ones that grew back in the old days.
No, man. Didn’t even work. She said they were too ‘ceptible to some kind of bugs, should have gotten some other kind. Hell man, what d’ya get a woman like that? Everyone says the season shouldn’t be about gifts and all that, but every year I’m trying to figure it out. Drives me children-on-a-sugar-high crazy every year.
Naw, gift cards are no good. Tried that one year. She asked why I didn’t put no thought into her gift. Wasn’t exactly like that, but that’s what she meant. Any fool can pick up a money card. I thought it wouldn’t be too long or too short or attract bugs. But, man, I still got no credit.
Anything ever made her happy? Hmmm…One year, yeah, one year. Didn’t have much of nuthin, ya know. Not even lint in the pockets ‘cuz it had fallen through the holes. I sure didn’t want to show up empty handed, ‘cuz what would that say? And you know I can’t be saying that.
Well, I’m trying to tell ya what I did. It’s pure D sap.
Sap, yeah, the stuff that comes out of trees that you make syrup out of. Anyways, I found these old pictures just lying around loose. They were of family members, most of ‘em dead. I collected them all into a photo album that I found cheap. I wrote favorite memories of ‘em or stories passed down about ‘em. Like with Uncle Elbert, I wrote about him shooting that coyote that was just sitting and sitting by a fence with a beer bottle by it. You remember? I told you about it. Well, it turns out it was already dead and somebody just propped it up there. I wrote about why I liked ‘em. Hell, I even wrote about Uncle Buster and he was a mean ol’ SOB. I wrapped it all up in some paper I found. She unwrapped it on Christmas morning and she commenced to carrying on. She cried, held it to her chest and all that. Still keeps it on her coffee table.
Why would I do that again? I make money now. ‘Sides, I ain’t got time for that. What am I gonna git her this year? Ya’ think she’d want jewelry? I tried earrings once, but I ain’t seen her wear ‘em once. Maybe she’d like a necklace?
Man, I love my Momma and all, but she sure is hard to make happy.
Much thanks to everyone who participated in this contest! And thank you Jennifer for this amazing entry.
To see all the winning entries and honorable mentions in this year’s contest, click here.