You tell me…

I’m pondering…wondering…in a daze-thinking haze.

It’s probably because it really hasn’t been that long since Christmas, there have been a couple of birthdays, and Valentine’s Day has come and gone.

It’s probably because I was making a batch of cookies for a guy who had knee replacement surgery recently. And we all know gooey, warm, sugary chocolate was what he needed to get through the pain of physio, walking, breathing, and well, the pain of the pain.

Moving along.

I was making a batch of cookie-dough goodness with my KitchenAid stand mixer, which Mr. G, honey gave me Christmas before last. It’s fast, efficient, and goes vroom, vroom. I smile every time I plug it in.

And I was thinking about this…

From An Ideal Husband by Oscar Wilde:

(Lord Goring) I am glad you have called. I am going to give you some good advice.

(Mrs. Cheveley) Oh! pray don’t. One should never give a woman anything that she can’t wear in the evening.

And this…

From Nora Robert’s Dance Upon the Air, Book 1 in the Three Sisters Island Trilogy:

(Sheriff Zack Todd) According to my mother, if a man gives a woman anything that plugs into an electric socket for a gift, he’d better be fully paid up on his life insurance. But I didn’t think that rule applied here.

I love both of these sentiments.

These words, written 106 years apart, are from a stage play written in 1895 and from a work of genre fiction written in 2001, respectively.

Yes, these are the things I think about when I’m in the kitchen whipping up some sugary confection when I’m on M&M sugar detox.

I’m thinking about gifts I’ve been given by the testosterone set over the years — particularly Mr. G, honey, as we are in a long-term relationship trench — and I have to say that I’m good with both something to wear in the evening and something that plugs into a socket, and leaning towards the latter. AND probably a lot in between, truth be told.

Elen the Gadget Girl meets Tim the Tool Man. In this case, it’s Mr. G the Lee Valley Man.

I’ve had jewelry, perfume, lingerie, flowers, theater tickets, and… and I swoon. I’ve also had kitchen appliances, cooking knives, books, electronic devices, DVDs, printers, cameras, muddlers, spurtles, a red light bulb nose, and even a little light thingie that attaches to my house or car keys, so that I can see the lock in the dark… and I swoon.

Maybe I’m just a born swooner.

You tell me.

Does it need to be a grand gesture? Does it need to be only something you can wear in the evening? If your man brought you a gift, would you wig out because it didn’t come with a USB cord or an AC adapter or — shiver — a battery? Would you wig out if it did?

Do you have a favorite gift you were gifted from, you know, one of them — the other sex?

These are the things I think about… in the kitchen… when the mixer is whirring… when it’s darksome and greysome… when it’s Hump Day.

Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.