The Hub is pretending to be mad at me again. I know he isn't really. After all, he admitted, "I must want you to do it on some subconcious level. Otherwise I wouldn't encourage you."

I guessed my Christmas present. Again. By asking only one question: the only question I ever ask when he tells me he's gotten me a gift. "Is it brown?" Well, sometimes I follow it up by asking "Is it alive?" but that's sort of a throw away question, since he has never gotten me anything that is alive.

It's not so much that I am some kind of world class psychic.....

it's more that The Hub is a Cold Reader's dream come true. He somehow manages to project everything and he cannot stop talking. Add into the mix that I can usually count on one hand the number of things I have asked for.....And I've learned now that it is not possible to be too direct when asking The Hub for something. So, far from the early days when I used to casually mention the thing I wanted most for Christmas I now hand him a catalog with the item circled and say, loudly "Ding! Ding! Ding! THIS IS A CHRISTMAS HINT!" And it's not often that I do that. After all, who has the energy, let alone the lung capacity?

This is my entire Christmas / Hint List as given to The Hub

A flannel nightgown
Sleep socks
A Timneh Gray Parrot (the "it never hurts to ask" catagory)
A radio/cd player which fits under the kitchen cabinet
Harry Potter DVDs
Gift cards to Target or Petco
Chocolate
Handkercheives
Costume jewelery
A sweater
A long sleeved tee shirt

The Hub often goes his own way in getting me a gift I have not asked for, nor even mildly hinted at. However, he has had what he feels is a spotty success record with this method. (The truth is I've been happy with everything he's ever been kind enough to get me, though not everything has fit and there have been some unfortunate things to which I have been allergic) The things he experiences as "failures" usually have to do with being A) given very late due to not realizing how long it will take to do the project and / or not realizing that yes, Holy S***, Christmas really is tomorrow or B) given to me in the bag in which they came. With the receipt still in the bag. (this is apparently also related to the "Holy S*** What Day Is It?" problem) I've tried very hard - admittedly sometimes not entirely successfully - to be sanguine about The Hub's Holiday Time Management Issues. Probably the worst thing I've ever done is point out to him that Christmas comes only once a year, but at the same time every year.

It's his sister, who has years of experience communicating with him and who watched the implosion of his first marriage who loudly and clearly asks "Whatadaya mean you only had time to get her a little rhinestone pin for Christmas? Don't they have shopping centers where you live? For God's sake! You already ran one woman off and you're going to do it AGAIN!"

While it must be said that The Hub and his sister have a complex relationship, it cannot be said that they have a communication problem.

But, I digress.

The point is that The Hub told me when he picked me up from work that he had gotten some of my Christmas presents today, so he didn't want me to look in the bag in the back seat.

"Okay." I said.

"You're really going to like that present." he gloated.

"I'm sure I will." We rode for a little way in silence. "Is it brown?"

"No! No it is NOT brown. I am NOT playing this game. No, no, no!"

"Okay."

We drove a little further. "I stopped by Wal-Mart but they didn't have it there, so I had to get it somewhere else." Wal-Mart?!? "Which is actually good, because I don't really like to shop at Wal-Mart."

"Well, I'm glad you found it."

"And I'm not going to answer any more questions! And it's not brown! It's white!"

Now, I'm pretty sure that even you could guess what it is from the list above. After all, Wal-Mart could hardly be out of long sleeved tee shirts, sweaters, nightgowns (though they are becomming more difficult to find) or socks. They don't sell parrots. I dislike white chocolate (I don't even know what that is. Tastes like sweetened wax to me) The packaging for the Harry Pottter DVDs is black. That gave me a 50/50 chance between the radio/cd thingy which I'd pointed out back in early November and handkerchieves which are also hard to come by. I'd given other, less clear hints for other items not listed, of course, and it was always possible that he'd gone off with one of his own ideas (say, my favorite scent of Yankee Candle which is white), but the picture of that radio, just as it had appeared in the Belk circular is what floated into my mind.

Just because I didn't reach this conclusion by concious deductive reasoning doesn't mean some part of my mind didn't reason it out. And, of course, that is what it is.

"I know what it is. But I don't want to upset you."

"No you don't"

"Yeah, I do."

"Then tell me!" So I did. "Aggggghhhh! How do you DO that? Ah, I'm becomming too predictible."

He isn't really.

Or at least, he's predictible in all the ways a woman wants a man to be predictible. Though the time he gave me a stuffed flamingo plush toy with a heart shaped cookie cutter hanging from its beak was certainly not something I saw coming.

I'll tell you what. If my box has air holes in it and says "hello!" this year, I'll be really gobsmacked.