I go through this every year.
The thing is, that I do try to make a bit of an effort. I walk through the town, staring hard at each shop. It is an extra-special one this time, as it is ten years – and so I want to get something doubly magnificent to mark our decade together.
I realise that this might be a bit of a shock for some people, as I do sometimes tend to play on the fact that I am a bit hopeless at things for a cheap comic effect. But in reality I am a bit more switched on than I might come across, and I do take my responsibilities seriously, especially where it comes to the LTLP.
I am a bit stuck, so I ring my mum. “I can’t decide what to get the LTLP for our ten year anniversary,” I tell her.
“That was last year,” she replies. “It is eleven this year.”
I return to my search.
In the end I am a bit stuck, so I get her a new trowel. Eleven years is ‘steel’ according to the tradition (or ‘fashion jewellery’ if you are using the modern lists, which I suspect might have been put together by interested parties). And the trowel is made of steel, apart from the handle which is wood, so it is an appropriate present. She is very lucky.
I return home to wrap up my gift.
As I go to bed after her, I leave it as a surprise on top of the kettle. The next morning, I pretend that I am not feeling well, so that she will go downstairs to get me a cup of tea first thing, and will find her secret surprise trowel. This will make it extra-special for her, plus I will get a cup of tea made for me.
“Thank you for my present,” she says, accidentally spilling my tea as she bashes the mug down beside me.
“You are welcome,” I reply.
“I have a present for you as well,” she says. “I have arranged a little something for today.”
I am agog, and blink the sleep out of my eyes. We will be going to a nice restaurant or having some sort of surprise day trip. Or, actually, maybe what she has in mind is something more of a special man/woman nature. I recline back into the sheets in interest.
We test drive a Kia Ninky-Nonk.