It was our first wedding anniversary and my husband & I had made plans for a romantic dinner at one of our favourite restaurants. For weeks I had agonized over what gift to give him & I fervently hoped that he was doing the same.
Stepping into his shoes, I concluded that it would be fairly easy for him to buy me a gift, as I love bags, shoes, perfumes and jewelry. Chocolates & roses accompanying any of these gifts would be an added bonanza, because my husband is not a roses or cards kind of guy. But I could wish, couldn’t I? I was and still am an incurable romantic after all.
I finally burnt a CD with all his favourite tracks, bought a leather wallet and a few cards that conveyed everything that I wanted to say, that I had not managed to this last year.
We met directly at the restaurant, after work. The ambience was wonderful and we spent time talking about the year that had just flown past and how we first met; things millions of couples would do on their first anniversary, I presume.
All through dinner I looked for bags, small jewel cases, chocolates and roses . There was nothing I could see. I was a little disappointed, but consoled myself with the thought that he would give it to me on the drive back home, in the car.
After dessert, I happily gave him my gift and cards. He was very touched. He said, “Oh! I’ve got something for you as well.”
He pulled out his wallet. I was really curious now. What kind of gift would fit into this small wallet?
He took out something that was concealed in his palm and said, “Happy anniversary. Here’s the key to your new car.”