If It Was Easy, They'd Call The Whole Damn Thing A Honeymoon - Plot & Excerpts
Men invade another country. It’s a whole different way of thinking. • ELAYNE BOOSLER • The very first birthday I spent with Joe, we happened to be in New York City for a friend’s wedding. He had brought my gifts along to be opened in our hotel room, and I was giddy with anticipation. Was he practical or romantic? Showy or sweet? The sexy-lingerie sort (please God, no) or the plane-tickets-to-Paris type (pretty-please God, yes)? I didn’t yet know. I love giving and getting gifts equally and have proudly maintained a longstanding family tradition of blowing birthdays (or rather, birthmonths as we liked to call them growing up) ridiculously out of proportion with parties and presents and an embarrassing excess of hoopla. Knowing all of this, Joe tortured me by holding out until after an endless, decadent birthday meal to present my gifts to me. I immediately noticed and appreciated how precisely he’d wrapped them; he even knew to fold the ends over before taping them to achieve the most streamlined and professional look possible.
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