There really are two types of people in this world: card people and non-card people. I come from a diehard tribe of the latter. Cards in my family were only acceptable if they were handmade or really weird. Adam’s people are the former. They don’t just send cards, they send cards in bulk. We receive not just the birthday variety (which I understand and try to do myself to my friends when I can remember–it’s hard to convert to cardom when you’ve been raised an acardeist), but the Passover, Halloween, Mother’s Day for the Mom-to-Be, anniversary, and just about everything else variety. It creates sticky situations as I often have to ask Adam, “Are we expected to send a card for that?” And, yes, it is expected. For example, we sent out a Hanukkah card/gift that arrived on the second day of Hanukkah. But the lecture about not being thoughtful came on the first day of Hanukkah (it was rescinded immediately the second day).
What am I getting at? I’m getting at the “Oh shit” feeling that struck this morning when Adam called and said, “You didn’t do your job.” Huh? “You forgot to remind me that it’s my mother’s birthday today.” Let’s count in how many places that sentence is simply wrong. On second thought, let’s keep marital harmony and not count the ways. If this were my family, a quick trip to an Amazon wish list and a simple phone call of “Happy Birthday, your present is going to be late,” would suffice. But this isn’t my family. So instead of his gourmet meal and walk around the swan pond during lunch, Adam will be scurrying off to buy and deliver a gift (this is probably the one time he’s grateful he works in New Hampshire). And I can be grateful that for all the flaws my family has (yes, Peter, you people have flaws!), at least we’re not card people.
