Christmas morning descended upon the Pupster house in the usual fashion, with the Pupster-boys dragging us out of bed to open presents before the sun came up.
What I thought would be the best Christmas present ever for the boys did not move the joy meter in the least, but Mrs. Pupster and I have enjoyed plinking cans on our homemade shooting range in the garage.
My “big” present to Mrs. Pupster also did not receive the “sparkly eyed gushing thank you” I expected. After I excitedly charged it up and followed it around the house for a few hours, I’ve conceded the fact that I may have fulfilled my fondest Christmas wish instead of hers. The appropriate level of contrition is still being negotiated.
The one family member who got exactly what he wanted for Christmas is easy to shop for.
You might be able to tell from the quality of the video, I did not get a new digital video camera for Christmas.
*sigh*
*squeak squeak squeak*
*giggle*
Pupster 
The tail thump at the end made me smile.
I beg your pardon? I don’t know what you speak of. . .I love my new vacuum cleaner. But I will admit, my favorite gift was the childrens’ bb guns. I have to go now, I need to find more things to shoot…
She is NOT a vacuum cleaner!
She is a ROBOT! That CLEANS! And feels. And loves.
*squeak squeak*
Pupster,
I learned (the hard way) years ago, that women, unlike men, are not thrilled about receiving household items as gifts, especially for anniversaries or mothers day. Men like power tools and things like that (I got an air compressor for Christmas, and I am as happy a pig in shit), women want nice clothes, pretty things and shiny things, especially jewelry. Get her some nice earrings to make up for the faux paux.
And as a boy, I would have shit my jammies if I got a BB gun for Christmas. You are a good Dad.
Mr Minority
What is it about those squeaky toys? Moses goes nuts over them.
First big mistake I ever made with my wife and Christmas. Bought a washer and dryer so she wouldn’t have to drag stuff back and forth to the apt. laundry.
Spent every dime we had.
Ahem.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me when it comes to picking Christmas presents. I try pretty hard, but always seem to hit the wrong chord.
Cash all around next year.
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