Spam & Coconuts

My ass is tired! Though to be more accurate, my brain is tired. I just spent my first full day trying on a job in the research department. I was so deluged with information, about half of which I'm familiar with, that my brain is more than a little frazzled. I am going back tomorrow for round two and the only thing in sight that is going to save me is the fact that next week I go to summer hours. This means that I shall be deluged with information that I must grasp for five hours per day instead of eight with the bonus of Wednesdays off. The first Wednesday off, however, is the younger son's birthday. And I am having a heck of a time wrangling out of him what he wants. That is, tokens that he desires in a reasonable price range that are also age appropriate. I threatened him with the possibility of finding himself the recipient of Spam. Or a coconut. And the stories that go along with these out of the ordinary gifts nearly made him fall off his chair. He was gasping for air! The Spam gift involves Christmas and his father. From the era when we were married to each other. And I was perplexed and puzzled as to what sort of gift I should present him with. When I asked, in either an overt or sneaky manner, he would reply that he would enjoy getting some Spam, the Hormel variety rather than the internet variety. I don't remember what I got for him that year, I'm sure it was something very nice, but I do remember grocery shopping and in addition to Spam being on sale, I had a coupon as well! Guess what mister uncooperative got in his stocking! The coconut story is particularly funny if you know the people involved, but since you don't, it may fall as flat as a bottle of soda left out opened on the counter overnight. Upon shaking and examining her birthday present one year and hearing a mildly sloshy sound, my friend Sue proclaimed (when pressed for a guess from her husband the giver) that she thought it was a coconut. She truly thought it was bath oil, the very thing she had requested, but didn't want to spoil the surprise. She made a fatal mistake, she thought her husband had listened to her so she guessed the most outrageous sloshy thing she could think of! She opened it. She was right. She was disappointed and her husband was aggravated. There must be some guess of the Magi sort of lesson to be learned at this point but it evades me. All I know is, I've given my son a deadline of this Sunday for a birthday wish list. Because if left to my own devices, he may get Spam and a coconut.