I can't be the only woman in Australia whose husband has no interest in (another) bucket of car cleaning fluids, or a barbie apron with plastic boobs on it.
Every year, I rack my brains trying to buy him something he'll truly love, and he's absolutely no help any more. When I ask him what he'd like he says, "Lover, you've already given me everything I've ever wanted."
Which, while true, and very sweet, isn't actually any help.
It was easy in the beginning. In the short period between his break-up and divorce from the Wicked Witch of the West, she gave away or threw away everything he owned. He came to me with a banged-up work ute, a bag of golf clubs, and some clothes, and the only reason he still had those was because no-one else wanted them.
So I bought him fishing knives, and tools, and a barbie trolley, and a beautiful leather recliner, and his favourite movies on DVD.
A couple of years ago I bought him a fish picture by Roger Swainston (and if your man is a fisherman you should seriously think about these because they're stunning).
He loves playing the stock market, and loves mining, so I bought him antique mining share certificates on eBay, and had them framed.
I gave him NeoCube magnets to fiddle with and good whiskey tumblers and a West Coast Eagles spare wheel cover, and now -- I'm tapped. I have no more good ideas.
At least, none that I can afford.
Wonder how he'd feel about some hankies?