Every year, some time between mid-October and Thanksgiving, the Christmas Threat Season begins. This is a time-honored tradition J and I have wherein we threaten each other with horrible Christmas gifts.
Our go-to refrain: "What color would you like your Snuggie, dear?"
(I checked out the Snuggie web site, where they suggest that the Snuggie can be worn for, among other things, "Late Night Pub Crawls." That is either the dumbest thing I've ever read, or the best idea since matching shoes. I hereby challenge all my partying buddies to organize a Snuggie pub crawl and take a lot of pictures!)
Thus far this season, I've found the worst potential gift, the Thomas Kinkade Victorian Christmas Carousel. I'll just let the promotional copy speak for itself:
Celebrate the joys of the season in music, light and motion with this magnificent first-of-a-kind Thomas Kinkade musical carousel! Bathed in light, six handcrafted and hand-painted carousel horses bob up and down, showcased within a revolving Heirloom Porcelain™ musical Christmas carousel collectible. Mr. Kinkade's artwork adorns the carousel canopy and base, as well as each horse's blanket, and a warm, glowing light emanates from the lantern carousel topper!
Available exclusively from Ardleigh Elliott, this limited-edition Thomas Kinkade musical carousel plays the beloved melody of "I'll Be Home For Christmas." Dazzling faux gems and raised relief designs lavished in 22K gold make this extraordinary carousel a true holiday treasure - order now!
And it's only $200 with shipping!
On the other hand, J does unnerve me whenever the Time Life Music commercial comes on for "158 original hits from the golden age of country!" He just looks at me and nods as if to say, "Just check your stocking on Christmas morning, my dear, mwa ha ha..."
Of course, I don't really have anything to fear from J, gift-wise. If anything, he's the one who should be nervous. J is the master of giving amazing gifts, of meeting or even anticipating a need and filling it superbly. I... am not.
Let me put it to you this way: last year, we were watching Law & Order and I commented on a scarf that a character was wearing. J went to the L&O web site, checked the fashion blogs and generally scoured the Interweb to try to find the scarf. He didn't find the exact thing but did find a similar scarf in an even better color palette. J gave me that scarf for Christmas. You know what I gave him? A plastic polar bear that poops jelly beans.
(The box identifies the bear as "the sub-zero poopin' hero." I was never sure exactly how the bear qualified for hero status.)
I'm getting a little anxious considering how high the bar is set this year. J has already given me an early gift of having satellite radio installed in my car. As usual, it's fantastic and I love it and I don't know how I got along without it.
But also as usual, I have no idea what I can get him that will be remotely comparable. And in my darkest hours, I ponder the unthinkable. "Hey, it comes in a reindeer version too!"
