Christmas Presence

Then one year, I came into what was a considerable amount of cash for someone my age, and come Christmas, I gift-shopped with total disregard for the cost. That Christmas Eve, too excited to wait until morning, I headed out for a surprise visit to my then-boyfriend — only to find him canoodling under the mistletoe with someone else. I hightailed it back home, tossing curse words and brightly wrapped boxes out the car window along the way. When I stopped for gas, all that was left was a gold Claddagh ring and an obscenely overpriced leather jacket — both of which I unceremoniously hoisted into the confused gas station attendant's arms. This is going to sound like a bad Kenny Rogers Christmas song circa 1982, but I still remember the exact words he said after I convinced him that I wouldn't regret giving away those things to a stranger: "You got no idea what this means to me. Now there'll be something under the tree."