Me: What do you want for Christmas?
Him: Me? I don't know. Don't you know?
Me: How should I know? You're impossible to shop for.
Him: No I'm not.
Me: Yes you are.
Him: Am not.
Me: You're picky about your clothes. You don't have time for toys. You're inhumanly greedless. Are. too.
Me: Unlike meeee. I'm easy to shop for. Admit it, you already know half a dozen things I'd be thrilled to find under the tree with my name on it.
Him: Humph. That's true. You're easy. It'll cost me a bloody fortune, is all....
For the record, this is not entirely true. Yes, some of the items on my wish list (a new computer with more that 40 lame GBs of storage space, for example) are pricey. But I don't think he fully understands how absurdly satisfied I'd be with just season five of Grey's Anatomy, and say, a new bread knife.
Of course, all this is very easy to say, because I already know that I'm getting season five of Lost (which is all I ever really wanted for Christmas) from another considerate party. So I'm totally set.
....and also....of course.....I can go ahead and say all of that because I'm 99% certain that, come Christmas morning, there's going to be a new computer with more than 40 lame GBs of storage space somewhere under that tree....
Greed works. Mister has yet to learn this valuable lesson.