It's the thought that counts...

This is my husband and love of my life:

Pretty cute, right? Yeah, I think so. Anyway, if you have had the pleasure of meeting him, you probably think he's one of the nicest people you've ever met. If you do, you'd be right. If you don't, you may want to see a witch doctor to check if you have a soul.

Ever since I met him, he has been the kindest, sweetest, most awesomest guy I know. When we first started dating, he would constantly shower me with very thoughtful gestures (flowers, cards, candy... the standards) Then we got married, he would do even more thoughtful things (the stuff that doesn't cost anything!) He'd put notes in my wallet, he'd leave notes on the mirror so I'd see them when I got out of the shower. Yeah, he's basically a dream come true.

It doesn't take long to know that I'm sort of obsessed with my birthday. In my 20s, it was kind of pathological. It's definitely toned down now that I'm getting on in years. However, I still hover around Lily from "How I Met Your Mother" when it comes to my birthday.

Yes, I wake up in the middle of the night, look at the clock, and if it's after midnight, I basically squeal "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!! IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!!!" Now, if I had a Tiara, I'd probably put it on. Luckily, I don't.

So, if you haven't put it together, this post is about my husband + gifts + my birthday. He really started off with a bang! I had mentioned in passing how I really liked this artist who had a exhibition on the South Street Seaport. The exhibit was called Ashes and Snow. For my first birthday that we were together, he got me a really large framed poster from Ashes and Snow. It's still my favorite piece of art.

For the second birthday we were together, he followed up with a stellar gift. He knows how much I love the show "Sex and the City" so he bought me this badass complete series gift set. I've gotten many miles out of those DVDs

The years that followed had some pretty serious judgement lapses as far as gift giving goes. However, I will go on record as saying that despite the fact that the gifts themselves were stone cold crazy options (while making for a pretty comical story), the thought behind them was heart warming.

I figured I'd give you a taste with my two favorite gift-giving debacles...

One year, I was really sad that I'd have to be in London for my actual birthday for work. Not that London is a bad place to be, really I was sad because I'd be by myself. Before I left, we all gathered at my in-laws to have the traditional pizza, ice cream cake, and gift giving fun-fest. Sudhir's was the last gift that I opened. It was a large and somewhat heavy box. I was so excited to see what was in it. So when I opened it and saw this:

I was somewhat confused. I figured, it can't possibly be a pillow. Why would anyone get me a pillow...a pillow!...for my birthday?!! No way. So I proceeded to open the box. Imagine my surprise when within the box, I found this:

At this point, the conversation went a little something like this:
Arti: Do I have to knife open this pillow to get to my gift?
Sudhir: No, it's a pillow.
Arti: ?? Really ?? A pillow? For my birthday?
Sudhir: Yeah, I mean, sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night and you punch your pillow and say you hate it. You work so hard, you deserve to have a good night sleep.
Arti: quickly feeling like the wicked witch of the west... Oh. That's really sweet. Thanks.

The year after that, was an even bigger debacle. Again, at my in-laws for the traditional pizza, ice cream cake, gift opening fun-fest. I had high hopes for this year. Sudhir had been bursting with excitement for days about how awesome his gift was this year and how I was going to love it. So to set the stage, again, there was a really large box. This year it was waaaaaaay heavier. I was so confused as to what this could possibly be. I tear off the wrapping and there's a non-descript cardboard box within. I open the box and the first thing I see is what appears to be a crock pot...

I was very confused for a few reasons.

1. I had never expressed any interest in a crock pot
2. I had never even used a crock pot
3. At the time, I worked so much that I was never even home for dinner...let alone to cook with a crock pot.

I removed the crock pot from the box and saw this:

Now I was super confused. Was I supposed to cook these rocks? Was it an aquarium? Why was there a fishing net? Was I supposed to be cooking fish? There was a cooking spoon. The resulting conversation went a little something like this:

Arti: A crockpot with rocks? For my birthday?
Sudhir: Noooooo...it's a hot stone massage kit!
Arti: I'm supposed to give myself a hot stone massage? That seems hard.
Sudhir: Noooooo...don't you remember? When we went on that cruise and got a hot stone massage, afterwards...you said if you could have a hot stone massage every day, you'd be the happiest girl in the world. Now you can!
Arti: So wait, you're going to give me a hot stone massage every single day?
Sudhir: I'll have to watch the instructional video first.

You have to admit though...while the execution was a bit...shall we say...Off? The thought was pretty spectacular. I don't know many people whose husbands make it their objective to make their wife the happiest girl in the world with their gift-giving prowess.

My birthday is next week. I can't wait to see what he comes up with next!

Keep ya posted!