Men are hard to shop for

I want Pete to be this excited about his Christmas gift

I am eternally stumped when it comes to buying presents for the men in my life.

I gave up on my father a long time ago. He’s read every historical novel on the planet, already owns a pair of pajama pants and has a love/hate relationship with Chicago sports. The only gift he’s ever liked from me have been mix CDs so I’ve just been doing that for every Christmas and birthday for the past few years (I do make a mean mix CD).

But Pete, my boyfriend, is a whole different ball game (See Worst girlfriend ever). Over the past year, his gifts have become more thoughtful and I look like an idiot as I continue to present him with stupid and sub-par gifts. Thus far, I’ve received Hunter boots (last Christmas), tickets to the Mariah Carey concert (Valentine’s Day), a mix CD (he beat me at my own game), an apron, flowers at work, flowers at home, a pillow with my dogs embroidered on it (I know, he’s THAT good) and a Netflix subscription.

I’ve given him male grooming products, tickets to the symphony (I fell asleep), a framed picture of the two of us (he says it’s a terrible picture of him), sunglasses and a North Face vest (both of which he picked out).

A few days after Thanksgiving, when Pete and I were driving to meet my family for brunch, he turned to me and said, “Can I tell you what I got you for Christmas?”

“Pete, it’s the day after Thanksgiving.”

“I know but I really want to tell you. I like, REALLY want to tell you. Like REALLY.”

And so I put on a little act and pretended like I didn’t want to hear and that lasted for about two minutes.

He got me…. *drumroll please*… a trip to Ireland.

WOW.

WOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWW.

OMG WWWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWO.

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Suddenly the pair of gloves I was planning on buying him for Christmas seemed pretty lame.

I’ve been scouring the Internet for gift ideas for the past few weeks, hoping and praying that I will not have to resort to gloves from Kohl’s.

“Eva, you don’t have to get me anything,” Pete said after the fourth time I asked him if he was in the market for an iPad docking station made from a recycled wood log.  “I know you don’t have the money and there’s nothing that I really want.”

Well what about a vintage map of Ireland? Or a pair of cufflinks with mini gavels on them? Or a Marc Jacobs iPad case? Or tickets to the symphony again (and I promise I’ll stay awake this time)?

And my mother is of no help. Last year she suggested I buy him one of those souvenir mugs in the shape of a boob and you can drink the coffee out of the nipple.

“Seriously mom?” I said.

“Well, I think it’s pretty darn funny, Eva,” was her reply.

There is certainly a lot of crap in this world but picking the one thing that I hope will make Pete go crazy is very difficult. (I only achieved the level of craziness I’m hoping for one time – it was after the symphony when I bought him ice cream. It was too much sugar for him and he was up until 2 a.m. singing Prince songs and doing weird jazzercise moves. I want him to be THAT excited about a gift from me.)

But – ladies and gentleman – I have something in mind. I ordered it over the weekend and it should be making its way to my apartment right this very minute. I can’t spoil the surprise until next week but I really, really hope it’s Prince-pumping-jazzercise-moves-worthy.

I’ll keep you updated.

P.S. This is Pete after too much ice cream:

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