A sister was having a birthday, so I took myself to a gift-y store.
I bought her some earrings. I also bought myself some earrings, as well as some tea towels, a scarf and a lovely ceramic coffee cup.
I love gift-y stores. The husband, not so much.
He will happily enter an antique store, a hardware store, a clothing store, a wine store and a bookstore. But he'd sooner visit the landfill than spend any time in a gift-y store.
This is driven home not infrequently. By that, I mean any time we happen to be out and about and in the vicinity of little shops.
Why, just two weeks ago, we were in the vicinity of little shops. And so, we did what most sensible people will do when they're in the vicinity of little shops: We shopped.
We bought some produce. We bought some sunscreen. We bought some plastic glasses to use on the deck over the summer.
And then I spied it: a storefront window that revealed candles. And preserves. And teacups. And bracelets and birthday cards and pillows and handbags.
A gift-y store. "Oh!" I said. "I need to go in there!" The husband rolled his eyes. He had seen this gift-y movie before. More often than not, it has ended with yours truly emerging from a gift-y store with a shopping bag in either hand.
"We can't afford for you to go in there," the husband said.
"But I might need something in there," I pointed out.
'No," he said. "There's nothing you need in there."
(The husband, I might note, does not always understand the meaning of "need." A woman can never have too many earrings, for instance, so she always needs some more.)
"I'll just be a minute," I said, and left the husband on the sidewalk so I could head in for a browse.
I charged about quickly, and grabbed some lovely note cards, some lovely specialty tea and some lovely serviettes. Oh, and there were some lovely little bars of soap I simply couldn't resist.
I emerged to find the husband sitting on a bench, checking his email.
"So," he said, "what did you find?" "Oh, just a few things," I said. "Things we really need. You should go check it out. It's a very nice shop."
"I don't go into those types of stores," he said.
And with that, we moved on down the street.
I made a mental note of the gift-y store's address and promised to return again soon. I simply have no choice at all: my best friend is having a birthday.
