finding the perfect gift

I’ve been dating a girl named Pam for about two months, and the hardest part of any new relationship is the first Christmas gift. This is an incredibly painstaking and delicate process, because gift implications are critical at this stage.

Two months into a relationship, the gift of jewelry sends a message that I don’t want sent. Jewelry implies a promise of ‘commitment’, and this isn’t an offer that I’m willing to extend at the two month mark. Likewise, gifts of chocolate imply that I really don’t care if she starts a regimen of massive eating. This is also a message that I don’t want to send.

So I had the dilemma of trying to find that perfect gift. One that says ‘I like you, and possibly, maybe, might be considering a future beyond two months with you’ but that doesn’t say ‘marry me’. And after careful consideration, and much searching, I felt that I had found the ideal gift for Pam…one that she would not only enjoy, but would also show that I care for her…but not in a marriage caring kind of way.

I bought her a Lava Bun foot warmer.

She’s constantly telling me that I keep my bedroom too cold and that, if I continue to maintain this current temperature, I’m going to have very little chance of actually getting her into the bed.

I’ve tried to explain that by slightly reducing the temperature, I increase the snuggling factor and promote a cozy warmth that can only be achieved under mountainous amounts of blankets. She tells me, however, that the only snuggling which will occur under the arctic conditions of my sleeping quarters will be taking place with penguins.

Thus, I felt that the Lava Buns were the perfect gift. She would get toasty warmth, and I would get her into bed.

She opened her gift and gave me a very skeptical look. Granted, the Lava Bun foot warmer is not all that exciting at first glance, especially considering that it resembles a beige-ish looking worm stuffed full of rice.

But I told her that this would truly be a gift that she would come to love and, after much convincing, I finally persuaded her to try it out. She climbed into my bed while I followed the directions on the Lava Buns which instructed me to microwave them for two minutes and then place under the covers at the foot of the bed.

About one minute into the microwave process, the distinct smell of oatmeal began to fill the kitchen. And, while I’m sure that Lava Buns aren’t filled with oatmeal, they are most definitely filled with some sort of oatmeal smelling substance.

I strode into the bedroom, Lava Buns held out before me, and amidst the lingering scent of oatmeal, Pam gave me a sourly look.

“You’ve got a lot of work to do come Valentine’s Day,” she told me.

Which means that my plan of getting her a matching seat warmer set probably isn’t going to be a good idea.