My husband says the package of Fig Newtons I gave him for Valentine’s Day was the best gift ever. Lest you think Fig Newtons sound like a loveless, cheapskate gift, remember we have a daughter in college and two weddings in three months this year. And don’t think I had ulterior motives in purchasing them, like eating a few myself. I consider the chewy, figgy, gritty things a waste of good calories.
If you still think I’m putting both words and Fig Newtons in Hiram’s mouth, let me assure you I am not. He loves them as much as Hobbits love mushrooms, so I check their price at the grocery store every week and stock up when they’re on sale, which hasn’t been very often lately. They weren’t marked down on grocery day wek before last either, but it occurred to me that they didn’t cost much more than a Valentine’s card. I closed my eyes and imagined Hiram’s face when handed a card, and again when handed a package of Fig Newtons.
After thirty-two years of seeing this sweet man get a pained what-do-I-do-with-this-now look on his face whenever he’s done reading birthday, anniversary and Valentine’s cards, the cookie face won. I bought the Fig Newtons.
So you can call me cheap and unromantic if you like. But over the decades, I have felt most loved by Hiram when he does little things that thrill him not one bit, but he does them because they make me happy. This year, I followed his example and gave him, not what delights me, but what he likes instead.
Next year, once the kids are married and the daughter is almost done with school, maybe a more expensive present will fit into our budget. Hiram will get two packages of Fig Newtons instead of one. Nobody’s gonna call me a cheapskate.
