My husband and I were excited about spending our first holidays as a married couple. But when I discovered how much he spent on gifts for others compared to mine, I decided to trade his gift for something that would leave him speechless on Christmas morning.
Our first Christmas as a married couple was supposed to be magical. I had envisioned cozy nights by the fireplace, exchanging thoughtful gifts. We’d build the kind of traditions we’d look back on in ten, twenty, or even fifty years.
I was so excited that I started preparing weeks in advance: decking out the house with lights, buying ornaments, and even baking cookies to hand out to our neighbors.
I’d never thought I’d want to act like the perfect homemaker, but something about being married had changed my mind.
Oliver even teased me about how much effort I was putting in, but I could tell he appreciated it. At least, I thought he did. He and I had been together for three years, and we’d always done Christmas a little differently.
We bought our gifts separately, which made the holiday morning extra exciting because neither of us had any idea what the other had planned. It worked for us. Or at least, it had worked when we were dating. Now that we were married, I assumed things would only get better.
I’d spent a lot of time picking out Oliver’s gift. It was an expensive mountain bike he’d been eyeing for months. He wasn’t subtle about it, either. Every time we drove past the sporting goods store, he’d make some comment about how much he wanted to start biking.
“It’s the perfect way to get good exercise,” he’d say. “Plus, going for something professional is safer than buying the cheap ones.”
So, yeah, I saved as much as I could to get him the bike. Honestly, it was a big extravagance, but that year was special. He was probably getting me something amazing, like a designer bag I had hinted about before.
About a week before Christmas, I was rummaging through the closet for wrapping paper when I noticed Oliver’s notebook sitting on top of his nightstand.
It was slightly open, and the words “Christmas Gift List” were written in bold letters across the top of the page. Now, I know I shouldn’t have looked. I know that. But in my defense, it was just sitting there, practically begging me to peek.
I hesitated for about three seconds before flipping it open. And wow. Let me tell you, Oliver had gone all out.
For his coworker Dave, he’d bought a $600 wristwatch. For his sister-in-law, he’d picked out a $250 bracelet. Then there was $900 worth of workout gear for his friend Brad, a fancy leather briefcase for his boss, and even an extravagant wine basket for the neighbor.
I was impressed, if a little baffled. Who spends this much on Christmas gifts?
Then I saw my name.
“Rebecca: Stainless steel kitchen spoon set – $20.”
I stared at the page, blinking like it might magically change. Spoons? For $20? For me?
At first, I laughed a little, thinking, This has to be a placeholder or something. No way. But the longer I stared at it, the harder it was to shake the sinking feeling in my stomach.
The man I’d married, who’d just spent over $5,000 on gifts for friends and coworkers, had thought it was perfectly fine to buy his wife, the supposed love of his life, a set of spoons.
I know I should be grateful for any gift, but this was something I couldn’t let slide.
By the time Oliver got home that night, I was still stewing. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to cry, scream, or just shove the spoon set down the garbage disposal.
“Hey, babe,” he said as he walked in, kicking off his shoes. “What’s for dinner?”
I forced a smile, trying to keep my voice steady. “Oh, just something practical. You know, like… spoons.”
He gave me a confused look. “What?”
“Oliver,” I said, crossing my arms. “Can we talk about something?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Uh, sure?”
I hesitated, trying to keep my tone calm. “I, uh, accidentally found your Christmas list.”
His eyes widened, and he let out a chuckle. “So much for surprises, huh?”
“Yeah,” I said, forcing a smile. “But… I noticed something. You spent a lot on everyone else, like Dave’s watch and Brad’s workout gear. But for me… you got spoons? For $20?”
Oliver blinked, his relaxed expression shifting into mild irritation. “What’s wrong with that? You love cooking. I thought you’d like something practical.”
“Practical?” I repeated, my voice sharpening. “You thought spoons were a good way to show your wife you appreciate her? Especially when you spent so much on others?”
“Rebecca,” he said, his tone turning defensive, “it’s just a gift. You’re blowing this way out of proportion. Besides, I work hard for my money, and I can spend it however I want.”
My jaw tightened. “It’s not about the money, Oliver. It’s about what it says. You went all out for everyone else and then put zero thought into me. Do you even realize how hurtful that is?”
Instead of apologizing, he rolled his eyes. “God, you’re being such a spoiled brat right now. Can’t you just be grateful? It’s the thought that counts.”
I laughed bitterly. “Oh, I can see the thought you put into it. A whole 20 dollars’ worth.”
He threw his hands up. “Fine. If you don’t like it, return it. I don’t care,” he spat and walked away to our bedroom.
That was the end of the conversation… for him, at least. For me, it was far from over. I was angry, hurt, and determined to show Oliver just how it felt to be on the receiving end of thoughtlessness.
Originally, I’d planned to give him the top-of-the-line mountain bike he desperately wanted. But after this? No way. I returned the bike the very next day and used the refund to buy myself something I wanted: the designer handbag that I hinted at.
But I wasn’t done. Oh, no.
On Christmas morning, I played the part of the doting, grateful wife. I unwrapped the stainless steel spoon set with a big smile plastered on my face.
“Oh, Oliver, this is just perfect!” I said, holding up one of the spoons. “So shiny. So… practical. Just what every woman dreams of.”
He grinned, clearly not understanding my sarcasm, or maybe, I was just a great actress. “See? I knew you’d come around. Glad you’re finally being reasonable,” he said, relieved.
I almost broke character, but I managed to keep it together. “You’re so thoughtful, honey,” I added, placing the spoons carefully back into the box.
By this point, Oliver was practically glowing. “And I can’t wait to see what you got me,” he said, his tone smug. “I’m guessing there’s a certain mountain bike under the tree?”
I smiled sweetly. “Oh, it’s something special, alright. You’ll see.”
His face fell slightly when I handed him a box instead of producing a bike from somewhere. But he still tore into the package, excited. My first gift was a certificate for a masterclass titled “How to Set Your Priorities Straight.”
The confusion on his face was priceless. “What’s this?” he asked, flipping the piece of paper over as if the back would reveal the real gift.
“It’s thoughtful,” I replied, echoing his earlier words. “Just what every man needs.”
His confusion turned to annoyance. “Rebecca, what the hell?”
“Oh, don’t stop there,” I said, pointing at the box. “Look at the other part of the gift.”
He reached into the box and revealed a book titled “Your Wife Is More Than Just a Housewife.”
Oliver’s face went through a series of emotions: confusion, irritation, and finally, guilt. I was afraid he might snap at me for being petty, but he deserved it.
He glanced at the book, then the spoons in my lap, and then back at me.
“Rebecca…” he started but trailed off.
I leaned back in my chair, folding my arms. “Do you get it now?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared at the gifts in his lap, his face slowly falling. “I… I didn’t think the gift would look like I didn’t appreciate you,” he admitted quietly. “I guess I got so caught up on the other gifts that I didn’t realize how it would make you feel.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“And… I’m sorry,” he said, looking genuinely remorseful. “You’re right. I messed up.”
I wanted to stay mad, but seeing the regret in his eyes made it hard. “Oliver, I don’t care about expensive gifts. I care about knowing you put some thought into me, not just everyone else.”
He nodded, his shoulders slumping. “You’re right. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
The next day, Oliver took me shopping and insisted I pick out something I really wanted. I already had the handbag I wanted, but there was another store that always called to me.
A few minutes later, we were walking out of there with a stunning diamond necklace, but more importantly, I walked out feeling valued.
And I believe my husband learned his lesson. I’m probably going to tease him about the spoons for the rest of our lives, but Oliver won’t make the same mistake again.
Here’s another story: I thought I was being a good wife, throwing a festive dinner for my husband Todd’s 35th birthday. But just as the guests were about to arrive, he told me he was ditching the party to watch the game at a bar. What happened next? Let’s just say, I got the last laugh.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
