Always thinking

We exchanged gifts already since we'll be out of town before and working during Christmas. It was one of those really romantic evenings with the fireplace going, Harry Connick Jr. on the radio, perfectly wrapped gifts and champagne.

Or, Dave just finished "wrapping" my presents five seconds before he said "wanna open them now?", we flipped the volume off "Clash of the Choirs," and we're not much for champagne. Or having fires, since that'd require burning my house down. Or Harry Connick Jr. since he has a tendency to sound like a herd of elephants if you don't listen, put all your energy into listening to his damn Christmas songs -- and I just don't have the energy for that.

Anyhow.

I got my ring, of course, and "Mr. Big got me" a gift certificate, a couple shirts, a pillow, a CD. I'm so good to that dog.

And because I'm such an awesome wife, I got Dave tickets to see the Foo Fighters in Detroit in February, the same day as my baby shower and Dave's birthday. Convenient, huh? Dave thinks he got the tickets because he's such a good husband, or maybe the hormones swung in his favor for a minute, or maybe I just had a stroke of good planning. Maybe. Or maybe it's my way of saying "This is the last time, buddy. Enjoy it, my friend. En. Joy."