Last Saturday, Sammy and Julia drove to my house for lunch. On the way, they stopped at Best Buy and bought me a gift for my birthday.
It was a copy of Lincoln.
I smiled, thanked him for thinking of me. I gave him a big hug, which I do even when it's not my birthday.
He asked me if I had it already, and I said no. "If you read my blog," I said, "you'd know how I feel about that piece of shit movie."
This is the kind of relationship I have with my son. I know he's not a big reader, and the last thing I expect him to do is read my goddamn blog. We all had a good laugh over that one.
"I wanted to buy you The Master," he said, "but they didn't have it."
I'm a tough guy to buy for, I'm the first person to admit it.
I told him I loved The Master, said it would've been perfect.
He said he couldn't find it at Best Buy and the woman who helped him kept asking if he wanted Master & Commander or a movie from 1984 called The Master starring Lee Van Cleef.
At Christmas, Sammy gave me a gift card. He didn't want to go that route again, which is how he came to buy Lincoln.
I asked him if there was a gift receipt. There was, and we went to lunch.
On Thursday, I went to Best Buy and bought a copy of The Master.
I need some new headphones, but I couldn't find any I liked. I thought I'd end up with a $10 gift card, but the cashier gave me cash.
On Friday, a package arrived from Sara.
She'd called the night before, said two things were headed my way. She's been busy with work, and hadn't had much time to shop. A care package would arrive first, followed by a separate package a few days later.
There was a card, two Tanqueray minis, an 8-pack of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, and a copy of Make-Ahead Recipes from Cook's Illustrated. The card was hilarious. I could tell the Reese's were a little melted, so I stuck them in the refrigerator.
The gin was unaffected by the weather.