This is not meant to be cruel.
I don't think my mother gets christmas. You would think, having a younger brother, three children and two grandchildren, with a combined age of 163 years, she might have got it by now.
The pressies are meant to be surprises.
Years ago my sister invented the list. (Amazon copied it). You make out a list of way too many things and it is organised. By my sister of course. The idea is, you're guaranteed to get what you want, but you don't know what or from whom.
A few weeks back I reeled off the list. Far too early, but never mind. Last week Mother phoned to say that she was having trouble getting what I had asked for in HMV in the Trafford Centre 'although they did have the three tenors DVD', and Pauline couldn't find it on Amazon. She said she could go into Manchester and try HMV there, or maybe Forsythes, and I had visions of her trudging down Deansgate on a fools' errand. "Don't worry," I said. "Forget about it - how about something from my Amazon wish list - Pauline can organise it (Pauline's the eldest of us three siblings. I'm not saying she's bossy but...).
On Monday, Mother phoned to say she had got it "And I know you're going to like it, it's very good" (bear in mind she doesn't have a DVD player).
I rang her today and she very nearly blurted out what it was. Okay I vaguely know, but the element of surprise is which one. She finally said "Okay, I won't tell you which one it is but you will like it!".
She has another three weeks not to tell me which one it is. It is so going to kill her. Every birthday and christmas she rings up just before and says "Just to let you know I got you XXXX."
"Mother! It's a christmas present! It's supposed to be a surprise!"
