Spending Spree

Andy and I had a date the other day. He had a half day of lieu time so we decided to meet up for lunch followed by some long overdue book shop perusal. The weather was lovely (I think the south-east of England is up for an Indian summer judging by the last week or so) and we ended up in the cafe at the top of C & H Fabrics, somewhere that does lovely lunch time food yet we rarely think about going to eat.

Whilst awaiting our jacket potatoes, Andy suddenly leant across the table and grabbed my hands.
'Hello', I thought, 'what's he up to?'
'I'm worried about you going stir crazy because you are stuck in the house all week,' he said. 'So I want you to have this and go on a spending spree to cheer yourself up.'

And he pressed a very substantial amount of money into my palm.

'And you're to spend it all on yourself,' he said. 'No keeping it to pay bills with. Buy whatever you like.'

I couldn't speak. I was stunned into an emotional silence. This has never happened to me before.
To be honest, we were both a little tearful at the development of this unexpected gesture. Our jacket potatoes arrived, we ate them and stepped out into the sunshine.

'Right,' said Andy. 'Off you go. Spend your money.'

Unfortunately, spontenaity is not my forte. I'm not keen on surprises. Or taking risks. I like to know what's going to happen, to be prepared, to avoid errors of judgement at all costs. (I blame my mother for this. When we were children, she'd say, 'Get into the car, we're going out.' And my brother, sister and I would say, 'Where are we going?' and she would say 'Surprise.' And the surprise destination would invariably turn out to be either the dentist, or the doctor for some kind of vaccination. This definition of 'surprise' has clearly damaged me for life).

Of course, being given money and told to go and spend it by one's uniquely wonderful hubbie is a lovely kind of surprise and I really wanted to go mad in the town and despatch the whole wodge of cash in one mad gallop into the face of the current economic down turn. But deep in my heart I knew I'd end up bringing home a pointless kitchen gadget, a pair of purple leatherette trousers, a rug making kit featuring Eeyore the Donkey and probably some more chickens and bearded collie.

I looked at Andy. His face was shiny with expectation, his feet ready to scuttle after me as I wafted grandly from shop to shop like Lady Bracknell saying, 'I'll have that and that and that and that. Wrap them in expensive paper and ribbons and give them to my chauffeur.'

'I have to plan what I'm going to buy,' I said, apologetically. 'So I make sure I don't buy anything stupid.'

I could see by Andy's face, indeed I knew in my own soul, that I was clearly missing the point of the phrase 'spending spree.' By making a list and giving my potential purchases considered thought, I was negating the potential for thrill and extravagance and impulse.

But he knows me well, my husband. He knows that it is in my blood to be careful with my resources, to be moderate and considered, especially where spending on myself is concerned.
'Well, as long as you have a spree at some point,' he said.
'I shall,' I promise.

It's been a quietly exciting thing for me, planning my spree. The money is sitting safely, waiting for THE BIG MOMENT when it will be unleashed on the retail world.

Here is my list so far:
1) a pair of posh trainers to protect my now official 'weak spot' of an Achilles tendon
2) a proper duffle coat a la Paddington Bear for Winter - in either purple or red
3) an address book as my old one is looking rather tatty now and is full of crossings out where people keep moving
4) one of those big food processors that look like mini concrete mixers
5) a selection of knitwear (the selection of knitwear causes me grief every year for some unkown reason)
6) membership of the BumbleBee Preservation Society
7) a swarm of bees
8) the entire contents of my list of 'Books I would like for my Birthday' currently attached to the notice board in the kitchen
9) a chaise longue
10) a replacement laptop ( I say this because the threat usually makes my current and very faithful laptop behave itself for another few weeks)

Of course, I could go to Canterbury and blow the whole lot in M & S.

Which would be nice.