This year, for Christmas, I tried something new. No matter how many of my diapers you once changed, no matter how many of my tonsils you once removed, no matter how many of my sins you've heard me confess, and no matter how many of your kids I gave birth to...
You got a Starbucks gift card.
Okay, this is the thing. I’m not cheap, I’m frugal. And, like I told my priest, I’m not lazy, I just don’t have time for this sh*t. Christmas is wonderful, but gift buying was created by the devil. Yet, I do have a heart.
I bought Starbucks gift cards that correlate to the amount of effort you’ve put in to putting up with me:
1. $350 gift card: If you kill someone, I’ll pretend like you didn’t. Happy Holidays.
2. $275 gift card: I have problems, and you love me anyway. Merry Christmas.
3. $225 gift card: You are important to me. So if your calls are pushed to voicemail, my kids are watching YouTube. Glad Tidings.
4. $150 gift card: I think you paid for dinner the last time we exchanged gossip. This is my share. Season's Greetings.
5. $50 gift card: Not sure if you bought me a gift, but if you did, I’m sure it wasn’t over $50. Feliz Navidad.
6. $25 gift card: Here.
I'm not a gift person. I'm just not. I don't even care about receiving gifts. In What If You're Over My Sh*t? Rachel is the SAME way. She could care less about her husband Marc giving her things. What she wants is time being a family. What doesn't Marc GET about this?
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