I have a horrible, embarrassing faux pas that I’m going to feel guilt and shame over for the next, oh who knows how long but let’s say, 8 years. Seriously epic stupidity.
Today is my birthday. Nice right? Fabulous. My dear husband tried to do something he thought was nice. We went out to dinner last night with the whole family. Rob was even able to join us and it was yummy and fun and lots of laughs.
Toward the end of the evening, Michael pulls out a bag that contains my birthday present. He proceeds to ramble on about how he knows I’m not going to like it and I can take it back and exchange it for something I like, blah, blah, blah. I didn’t think that whatever he got me was going to be *that* bad. I mean, after 20 years, I would think he knows me pretty damn well.
So as I start digging through the bag filled with tissue paper, I come to find a pair of shoes. A pair of ugly, hideous, I would never wear them in a million years shoes. Like, if they were on sale, for free, plus a 20% off discount toward a future purchase, I still would’ve passed them by.
I tried to feign a look of “Oh, they aren’t that bad.” but yea, I suck at that, so we all kind of laughed and I politely put them back in the bag and we went about our dinner and rest of the evening. I told a few friends, via text, about my, um, gift. I promised pictures the next day showing the wretchedness of the birthday shoes.
So this morning, I took pictures of the new shoes, alongside the pair that I think he was trying to replace. Now, let me mention that some might say the shoes he was politely trying to replace are the hideous ones. I get that. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder after all. Because someone, somewhere, thought these new shoes should actually be made and put them into production. ::shudder:: My old shoes are these Tommy Hilfiger comfy canvas slip ons, with palm trees. Did I mention they’re worn? My pinky toes stick out of both shoes because after about 10 years of wearing them, I have worn large holes in both of them. (Another reason to always keep my toes looking fabulous, so look at them as incentive shoes!)
Now, here comes the ghastly, omg what did I do, part of the story. I took the pictures, along with some, um, colorful, commentary about them, and sent them to…….Michael.
OMG!!!! No seriously…..OMG!!!!
So I keep looking at my iMessages, waiting for the replies about how yes, they really are just not, um…..my style. I’m not getting a reply. I start thinking, oh wow, maybe they think they’re cute and I just should never buy a pair of shoes alone if anyone thinks these shoes are cute. And in my waiting and impatience of a reply, I make the heart stopping discovery that I did, indeed, send all the pictures and comments to him. The gift giver. Can I say again, OMG!!!!??????
A wave of nausea overcomes me and I panic. Oh what can I do to fix this? What can I do to make this at least not so horrible? (Side note to any men reading this blog: Please, for the love of God, do NOT buy your shoes of any kind. If you would like her to have a new pair of shoes, hand over your credit card and smile and tell her to pick out whatever she wants. It’s a win/win for everyone) So I quickly send him another message, ya know, like I meant to send that him all along and I was TOTALLY joking!!! I put a few “LOL”s and “ha ha”s in there for effect. But the words I wrote alongside the pictures preeeeeetty much summed up the fact that I was NOT joking. Oh my.
It also blew away my excuse for returning them without hurting his feelings. My “they just don’t fit right” excuse just got torpedoed, then blew up, then had a full magazine of bullets ripped through it. So am I now stuck with these shoes that I will never wear and can’t even hardly look at now that I have done something so completely heartless and cruel? Can I still exchange them and maybe take him with me when I do and buy him lunch or dinner and beg forgiveness?
To my surprise (and relief) he messaged me back and simply said “I tried lol please exchange them for a pair you like”. Ok, was that him just being nice? I messaged back that I was so thankful he tried and I loved him for trying and I was so blessed that he even went out and bought me something and thank thank you thank you. I’m sure my blathering told more about my guilty conscience than my original text.
So now, on my birthday, I’ll be extra nice to him, try to turn away from the shoe conversation and basically grovel. Because only I can create such a mess from something that was done out of love and thoughtfulness. But I just can’t keep those shoes. Epic. Stupidity.
And make sure you are messaging the person you think you’re messaging before you hit send. Trust me. You’ll thank me later.