Not the first time I've put a picture of my butt on the internet

I made a Christmas list for Andrew this year so that he would have no excuse for getting me a stinky gift, or worse even, no gift at all. The list included several items of varying expense, nothing extravagant. Where I listed an item of clothing, I included sizes and locations where he could find the items on sale, AND told him which colors do not flatter me. Where I listed body sprays and lotions, I told him which fragrances I did not like, so that he couldn't go wrong. There were about 12 items on the list so that he would have sufficient to choose from. He became a little overwhelmed at the list and didn't know where to start. So I crossed off all but three or four things. And then he went out shopping.

He came home very pleased with himself, having gone $125 over our $75 limit for each other, and carrying just one bag from one store which contained one gift wrapped box. I was a bit shocked seeing as Andrew hates to shop and even more than that, hates to spend money. Especially when that money was intended to go towards his mountain bike.

Slight tangent: Andrew is the world's biggest tight-wad, which comes in handy considering our tiny budget. On his days off, his favorite things to do are go fishing, which costs next to nothing, and sleep, because when you're asleep you can't spend money.

The only exceptions to Andrew's hatred of spending money are his hobbies. He is a fishing snob, biking snob, paintball snob and basketball shoe snob. He has to have G-Loomis fishing rods, will cast on nothing else, only buys the sixty dollar boxes of paint balls, needs a new pair of whatever the latest Jordan's are to wear on the court, and tortures me with catalogs full of mountain bikes that cost 2K on the low end. So now you can understand how his spending his bike money on Christmas gifts is a huge deal.

I couldn't imagine how $200 worth of clothing from The Buckle could fit into one box. And not until I was balancing the checkbook and sneaked a peek at the receipt did I understand. Andrew bought me a $78 pair of jeans, a $78 top and a $35 belt. Apparently that's the normal cost of clothing from The Buckle, but I don't often venture into that store, so I had no idea.

I am not the kind of woman who wears $78 jeans. I realize that to some people, that amount might constitute a cheap addition to their wardrobe, but I just don't see the point. I can make $78 stretch further than a pair of spandex shorts on Rosie O'Donnell's backside, so to spend such a huge amount on one pair of pants seemed insane, and I was instantly sick to my stomach.

When Andrew got home, he asked me, again, if I wanted to open my present. His excitement over his excellent shopping skills was oozing out of his sparkling eyes and stretching his mouth into a crazy grin, as it had been for nearly a week while he pestered me to open the box wrapped in pretty silver, red and green paper. Now that I knew what it contained, I no longer wanted to wait until Christmas morning for the surprise. I wanted to get it over with in hopes that I could somehow tell him that there was no way I was keeping any of it without squashing his elation at finally achieving the rank of Thoughtful Holiday Shopper.

So he went back into the bedroom and tore the paper off of the pretty box and brought me the pair of outrageously expensive jeans.

Dang, they were cute. I wanted those jeans, in spite of the price, and the battle that raged in my mind between sensibility and lust for sexy pants went on for several minutes. Eventually, I agreed to try them on...just to see if they would fit.

Wouldn't you know - perfect fit. I didn't have to suck anything in, and I could bend my knees when I walked. I looked at my butt in the bathroom mirror, and while I thought that perhaps things were a little pokey or bulgy in certain areas, the cute little studs and rhinestones on the back pockets took attention away from potential flaws, and I thought I looked pretty good. Andrew's eyes popping out of his head when he saw them on me said that he agreed, and then I was left with the aggravating dilemma of keeping the jeans or taking them back and getting 4 things instead.

Tonight, I wore the jeans to the Norman Family Christmas Party. Oh, yeah.

The Shirt and the belt though, are going back. The shirt was so, so cute, but not $78 dollars-make-me-choke-on-the-receipt cute. Andrew shopped like a pro for me this Christmas. He picked things that fit me, things that I thought were beyond awesome. Unfortunately, he also shopped like a man who can tip his waiter with a hundred dollar bill and think nothing of it.

The best part of his purchases was that he told me I deserved it. So maybe if the shirt hadn't been one degree away from completely see-through, I would have agreed to keep it. Cause it was exactly what I told him I wanted last month. (But the one I showed him only cost $32, and I still couldn't swallow that price tag.)