The King and I are exchanging Christmas gifts when he gets home from Afganistan in a month (only a month left!). To that end, one of the gifts I ordered him just arrived in the mail, and boy, am I regretting buying it. You see, it's an electric guitar.
You read that right--I bought my husband an electric guitar for Christmas. That's what he wanted, and since he bought me a $13,000 engagement ring,* I feel obligated to get him pretty much whatever he wants. (Hence, our 57-inch, high-definition tv.) And what he wanted this year was an electric guitar.
You're probably thinking, hmm, isn't it usually thirteen-year-old boys who go crazy and decide they're going to be rock stars and that they would look super-hot for all the chicks if they had a guitar? Yes, it is. Usually. In my case, however, it's a thirty-six-year-old boy who seems to be going through some sort of delayed adolescence/early midlife crisis, and he has decided he wants to play guitar. I am trying to remind myself that he could have wanted a Porsche.
Does he know how to play guitar? No. Does he read music? No. Has he any musical experience whatsoever? Well, if you count AC/DC concerts, then yes.
Did I buy him a high-powered amp to go with his snazzy new guitar? Yes I did.
Am I now going to the music store to pick up the set of headphones I have just realized he will need if our marriage is to survive? Yes I am.
* Note: First, the ring only actually cost $5,000, because he bought it directly from the diamond mines in South Africa when he was there on business. Second, yes, I know they are blood diamonds dug with the hands of near-slaves who make less in a year than I make in a day. I would never have paid either $13,000 or $5,000 for an engagement ring--in fact, I had my grandmother's engagement ring which I would have loved to have worn and told the King that, but he wanted me to have a brand-new one. An expensive brand-new one. What can I say? He was drunk with love. And that's why I had to buy him an electric guitar for Christmas.