I can recount thirty years of disappointing gifts from my husband — he simply had no clue. There was the electric can opener for our anniversary, a garage parking sign, the claustrophobic footed-robe that tripped me when I walked. I was forewarned by my new mother-in-law when she begged me to take over buying the family gifts from him. It got to the point that my husband would automatically include the sales receipts with his gifts, knowing I would likely want to return or exchange them. I felt awful doing so, but could fill only so many drawers with unwanted […]
Menu
