Have a Nice Guilt Trip by Lisa Scottoline, Francesca Serritella Page A
Authors: Lisa Scottoline, Francesca Serritella
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know the true meaning of a relationship?
My girlfriends are easy to shop for because I can get them accessories—costume jewelry, a clutch purse, a hair straightener, the latest wonder mascara. We girls love accoutrements.
My boyfriend doesn’t even wear a watch, and he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing man-jewelry.
Sorry, Mother Mary, he’s not Italian.
A friend suggested I get him nice shaving cream, but my boyfriend doesn’t shave. His scruff ranges from grizzled to Gorton’s Fisherman.
Overpriced bath and body products are a nice girlfriendy gift, but I think they’d be lost on my boyfriend. He’s more of a Shampoo + Conditioner in One type. One time he was showering at my place and called out, “Is it okay if I use this Kiehl’s shampoo? I don’t want to use your nice stuff.”
Except that the Kiehl’s is dog shampoo. Pip comes before everyone. I buy my shampoo at CVS.
I tried looking online for inspiration, but that was a bust. I used to envy the “Gifts for Him” tab on websites when I had no Him. But now that I do, it turns out those gift lists don’t suit Him at all—my boyfriend, I mean.
They probably don’t suit Him either, but that’s only because He is the true meaning of Christmas.
For example, Brookstone recommends wireless TV headphones with a picture of a woman asleep on her man’s chest while he looks past her and watches television.
This holiday season, tell your loved one, “I know we’re over each other, just keep the volume down.”
The Sharper Image suggests an electric nose-and ear-hair trimmer.
I don’t think we’re “there” yet.
A site called ThinkGeek.com , which advertises gifts for “Smart Masses,” features a hammer with a bottle opener on the back—because drinking while wielding heavy tools is a really “smart” idea.
The stakes are higher when choosing a gift for a significant other than for a friend. A gift for a friend needs only to say: I thought you might like this. A gift for a boyfriend needs to say: I get you.
And if I get you the wrong gift, I don’t get you.
In my case, my boyfriend is so nice, if I got him something he didn’t like, he’d probably pretend to like it, which is even worse.
No faking.
We’ve been together long enough that we’re comfortable, but not so long that we’re done trying to impress each other. I still get dolled up to see him.
He has about another six months on that.
So I just want to give him a gift that is fun and cool, maybe a little sexy, but something useful, with a clever twist. I want to give him something that he wants now and that he’ll cherish for a long time.
Wait, are we still talking about gifts?
Mother Mary and the 600 Thread Count
By Lisa
Mother Mary and bed linens have a long and storied history.
A few years ago, she refused to use the sheets that Brother Frank bought her, because there were bats printed on the fitted sheet and a life-size Batman on the flat sheet.
Mother Mary couldn’t picture Batman lying on top of her.
Neither can I.
Visualize amongst yourselves.
Frank had gotten the sheets because they were on sale, which gives you an idea of how the Flying Scottolines roll. If there’s a sale, we’re buying. Even if it’s in the kid’s department and Mother Mary has aged out, at eighty-eight.
So I should have expected trouble when for Christmas, Mother Mary asked for new sheets. But I didn’t see it coming, and neither will you.
“No problem,” said I. “What color do you want?”
(By the way, what a sport I am, huh? Why spring for jewelry when your mother wants sheets? Nothing says love like percale.
After all, it’s not like you only get one mother.
Oh, wait.)
But Mother Mary answered, “I want sheets, but I want to buy them myself. Just send me a check, and I’ll go to Anna’s.”
“What’s Anna’s?”
“The store on the corner.”
I shouldn’t have asked. Mother Mary loves stores-on-the-corner. She grew up in South Philly, going to the
My girlfriends are easy to shop for because I can get them accessories—costume jewelry, a clutch purse, a hair straightener, the latest wonder mascara. We girls love accoutrements.
My boyfriend doesn’t even wear a watch, and he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing man-jewelry.
Sorry, Mother Mary, he’s not Italian.
A friend suggested I get him nice shaving cream, but my boyfriend doesn’t shave. His scruff ranges from grizzled to Gorton’s Fisherman.
Overpriced bath and body products are a nice girlfriendy gift, but I think they’d be lost on my boyfriend. He’s more of a Shampoo + Conditioner in One type. One time he was showering at my place and called out, “Is it okay if I use this Kiehl’s shampoo? I don’t want to use your nice stuff.”
Except that the Kiehl’s is dog shampoo. Pip comes before everyone. I buy my shampoo at CVS.
I tried looking online for inspiration, but that was a bust. I used to envy the “Gifts for Him” tab on websites when I had no Him. But now that I do, it turns out those gift lists don’t suit Him at all—my boyfriend, I mean.
They probably don’t suit Him either, but that’s only because He is the true meaning of Christmas.
For example, Brookstone recommends wireless TV headphones with a picture of a woman asleep on her man’s chest while he looks past her and watches television.
This holiday season, tell your loved one, “I know we’re over each other, just keep the volume down.”
The Sharper Image suggests an electric nose-and ear-hair trimmer.
I don’t think we’re “there” yet.
A site called ThinkGeek.com , which advertises gifts for “Smart Masses,” features a hammer with a bottle opener on the back—because drinking while wielding heavy tools is a really “smart” idea.
The stakes are higher when choosing a gift for a significant other than for a friend. A gift for a friend needs only to say: I thought you might like this. A gift for a boyfriend needs to say: I get you.
And if I get you the wrong gift, I don’t get you.
In my case, my boyfriend is so nice, if I got him something he didn’t like, he’d probably pretend to like it, which is even worse.
No faking.
We’ve been together long enough that we’re comfortable, but not so long that we’re done trying to impress each other. I still get dolled up to see him.
He has about another six months on that.
So I just want to give him a gift that is fun and cool, maybe a little sexy, but something useful, with a clever twist. I want to give him something that he wants now and that he’ll cherish for a long time.
Wait, are we still talking about gifts?
Mother Mary and the 600 Thread Count
By Lisa
Mother Mary and bed linens have a long and storied history.
A few years ago, she refused to use the sheets that Brother Frank bought her, because there were bats printed on the fitted sheet and a life-size Batman on the flat sheet.
Mother Mary couldn’t picture Batman lying on top of her.
Neither can I.
Visualize amongst yourselves.
Frank had gotten the sheets because they were on sale, which gives you an idea of how the Flying Scottolines roll. If there’s a sale, we’re buying. Even if it’s in the kid’s department and Mother Mary has aged out, at eighty-eight.
So I should have expected trouble when for Christmas, Mother Mary asked for new sheets. But I didn’t see it coming, and neither will you.
“No problem,” said I. “What color do you want?”
(By the way, what a sport I am, huh? Why spring for jewelry when your mother wants sheets? Nothing says love like percale.
After all, it’s not like you only get one mother.
Oh, wait.)
But Mother Mary answered, “I want sheets, but I want to buy them myself. Just send me a check, and I’ll go to Anna’s.”
“What’s Anna’s?”
“The store on the corner.”
I shouldn’t have asked. Mother Mary loves stores-on-the-corner. She grew up in South Philly, going to the
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