never send a man to do a woman's job...

Thsi post is alternatively titled: The Present Procrastination Polka.

OK: A.) I am not sexist.

B.) I am not a feminist. At least in the modern American, uber-ridiculous, anti-Biblical implementation of the concept.

I can't, in fact, think of many "ists'" that describe me. Perfectionist, possibly. But certainly none that would include me amidst the raging bandwagon that likes to elevate women at the expense of men for the sheer thrill of the exercise.

That being said, there are tangible differences between the genders. Many, many multitudes of them.

As this Christmas morning and all its' celebratory present-opening-package-tearing-into glee races towards us with insistent abandon, my darling husband is tracking down last minute gifts. Which are the only kinds of gifts Copper buys, actually. For him, all gifts are purchased at the 'last minute'. It is as though he can't be bothered to engage in any present-purchasing nonsense whatsoever until he has the occassion for said gift clearly in his line of sight.

He does this same Present Procrastination Polka with birthdays, weddings, Christmas, anniversaries, Valentines Day... All holidays or dates of special remembrance which traditionally involve some kind of an acknowledgement in the form of a gift or card, Copper can be counted on to be shopping right up until the deadline (and sometimes after it). This morning found us heading off together to pick up the "last minute items" on his Christmas list (read: 'everything on his list').

Copper and I share the task of Christmas gifts annually, with me doing, say, 90% of the shopping, and Copper picking up the final 10%. I try to divide the burden so it is not overwhelming, as the prospect of shopping fails to thrill my beloved husband, even when the proprosed gifts are intended for people he loves above all others. This year, his Christmas list consists of four people. Two women and two men; his mother, his father, his brother, and me. As he is related to each one of us, he's gathered ample ideas of what might comprise an appropriate gift to each of us. He also is aware that two of the recipients on his list are women, without a shred of masculinity.

I must explain a basic tenant of gift-giving a la Copper. You see, in Copper's ideal world, the entire process of finding, procuring, wrapping, giving, unwrapping, and receiving of a gift should all take place within the same 24 hour period. It is extremely rare (as in, Hailey's Comets happen more often) that Copper will have a gift chosen and purchased more than a day or two ahead of the anticipated time of giving. It is not that he does not care - in fact, it it the opposite. The prospect of contemplating what to buy for any given person he loves, stressing out about not being able to give them something personal and meaningful, planning what to buy for whom, actually taking the time out to drive all around doing the shopping, and wrapping each present deeply daunts and exhausts my sweet Copper than for almost anyone I know. He puts his heart into each gift and really wants to give to each person that one, perfect, ideal present that will make their eyes light up like they were seven years old. He seeks so much to give to others in a way that equals sheer JOY that his expectations make the whole process quite overwhelming before it begins.

So, as a means of self-preservation, he skips every step of the process except the buying and the wrapping. And even the wrapping part is becoming optional. Thank goodness for gift bags.

Keeping all of that in mind, as I arrived to collect him from work this morning to embark on our shopping odyssey together, I did not know what to expect. A frustrated, resigned man? A jovial and happy Santa-like husband? It was more of the latter: Copper greeted me with an exhilerated look of deep satisfaction on his face. I smiled and relaxed. But then he uttered words that caused the prickling sensation of worry to creep up my spine,

"Honey, Home Depot opens at 9:00. Let's just go there - we can buy everything we need for everyone on my list in one store."

Now, I may be well-known for being extremely practical, but I'm dang sure neither I or Copper's Mom have ever included on our Christmas wish list such banner items as circular saws. Or a toilet seat, nifty-thrifty-handy-dandy socket wrench, duct tape, or even that snazzy extension ladder (which was kind of cool, but it was an EXTENSION LADDER). When shopping for someone whose DNA does not contain a "Y" chromosome, it should be a fairly well-understood piece of common knowledge that the "Home Depot" is not an appropriate place to be browsing the aisles, hoping for inspiration. Ever.

Giving a power tool as a gift to 99.9% of all mother-wife-women types is akin to sending a burly guy into a day spa for a "day of pampering". The vast majority of men would run screaming from that spa seeking significant beer and sports on TV, in order to effectively recover from all the Frou-Frou McGoo stuff that happens in there. The stuff that women typically love, by the way.

I desperately and deeply love my husband, but I think maybe I will need to take greater responsibility for all of the Christmas shopping next year. Either that, or we're splitting our whole doggone list down the middle by gender. I will shop for the girls. And he can shop for the boys. All of whom can probably expect to receive a laser level and some industrial grout sealer. Or maybe even a power tool.

Or an extension ladder.