A Mother’s Day Present That Everyone Loves

My wife was eight and half months pregnant with our daughter, our first and to date only child, when Mother’s Day 2008 arrived. Since my wife was not technically a mom at that point, I didn’t think it was necessary to buy her a Mother’s Day gift. You might think I was being cheap or inconsiderate, but I honestly felt like buying her a present was going to jinx the pregnancy, which already had its share of complications.

I know, I know: People hold baby showers for unborn children all the time. But seriously, if these things were left up to men, they’d never come off. You know any dads who’d step in and organize a baby shower if their wife or mother-in-law wasn’t up for it? If so, I’d like to meet these guys, because they probably ride to work on unicorns.

I’m not a person who likes giving or receiving presents. The whole charade seems designed to maximize the possibility of disappointment. Christmas, in my experience, is taking requests from people to buy items they could easily buy themselves—if they didn’t have to spend their money buying the items you’d requested. When was the last time you refused to get people what they wanted for Christmas and instead surprised them with someone you thought they wanted or needed? And how’d that work out for ya? Probably made for a memorable Christmas, what with the icy glares and silent treatment.

Today is Mother’s Day, and yesterday my wife and I spent the afternoon trying to find something that she and my daughter could use together—a new bicycle with an attached baby seat. This is the kind of present I can get behind, if only because you’re not actually “presenting” anything to the person—you’re shopping alongside them, providing input and feedback, waiting to eventually drop down the cash to complete the transaction. It’s a “present” in the sense that you’re present yourself, working with your loved one to make an informed decision that will affect your entire family. Does it rise to the level of picking out a college or doing a background check on your daughter’s future husband? Of course not. But it’s of a piece with everything else in your life. If you can’t pick out a bike and a baby seat without wanting to kill each other than you probably shouldn’t be married.

Well, we didn’t pick out a bike or a baby seat. Why? Because we didn’t find any that struck our fancy. Mind you, I wasn’t going to be the person riding this bike; but my wife still wanted my input. She asked me to test-drive several at the local Sports Authority, a task I gladly assumed if only for the opportunity to blaze down the aisles of a sporting goods store on a bicycle. It’s not exactly the same thing as test-driving a Ferrari, but it’s got its benefits, including the bewildering looks you get from other customers when you “buzz the tower” and cause them to hop out of the way.

None of these bikes fit the bill. If the chain wasn’t screwed up on one, then the front brake line was disconnected. If the seat wouldn’t adjust, then the gears were grinding. These bikes really made the decision easy: We weren’t going to buy something substandard just for the sake of buying something.

We’ll find the right bike for my wife, and then we’ll attach a baby seat. In the meantime, I probably still need to get her something for Mother’s Day.

But what should I get her? I don’t know, she said she had to think about it. What, you think I’m gonna surprise her with something? Please. I’d like both of us to remain happy, thank you very much.