My wife has been eying up these popular — and normally expensive — slippers for months. As it’s Christmas, I buy a pair and have them wrapped up ready. I pretend to be uninterested in the slippers and feign shock at the price.

A few weeks before Christmas, my wife chooses a pair for her mother and again comments on the slippers. I play a game on these occasions where I have to put her off without directly lying; she has no idea I do this and I only do it for my amusement.

Wife: “I have a discount code for these slippers.”

Me: “That’s nice.”

Wife: “Just in case you wanted to buy anyone a pair.”

Me: “That’s okay. I’ve done my Christmas shopping already.”

Wife: “Even for me?”

Me: “Already under the tree.”

Wife: “You didn’t buy me a pair?”

Me: “You have slippers.”

Wife: “That are falling apart!”

Me: “I’m sure you will like what I buy you anyway.”

She has already given the presents a squeeze when she thought I wouldn’t notice. She still has no idea.

During the last three months, my husband has spent more time on his computer than usual. He sometimes apologizes, and he says he is too busy with something unspecified. I do not think much about it.

Christmas Eve arrives, which is when the presents are exchanged in our country. We go to the tree, and I find several very nice gifts and an envelope with my name on it. Thinking it is some coupon for a wellness procedure, I open it and find a fancy, beautiful opera ticket! It is supposed to be a “detective opera,” named “CASE OF FALSE CAT or LITTLE WAGER ABOUT BIG LOVE.”

But then I look closely and see that the address of the opera house is… our house.

Me: “Erm… what exactly I am to do with that?”

Husband: “Well… use it!”

Then, he grabs my hand and takes me to our guest bedroom, marked as “Box No. 1,” where I find everything set for a puppet performance for an audience of one.

For the next hour, I am sitting, choking between laughter and tears, while my husband plays karaoke versions of every single one of my favorite operatic or musical songs, singing his own lyrics and sometimes adding “sound effects” by way of drum, triangle, marimbas, and ocarina.

I laugh most when he sings Puccini’s “Nessun dorma” aria, under the title “Don’t be formal,” and I cry most during his version of “Memories.” The opera is indeed a detective story, but mainly it is an ode to cats and cat ladies and how perfect they are. It is clearly about me. When he finishes, I realise this is the greatest Christmas present I have gotten in my whole life.

Me: “How did you get such an idea?”

Husband: “Honey, I wanted you to say, ‘I am a woman worth writing operas for, and I can prove it!’”

I do say that now.

This story is part of our Feel Good roundup for December 2020!

Read the next Feel Good roundup for December 2020 story!

Read the Feel Good roundup for December 2020!

My kids are ten and six, and they love “helping” my husband in the kitchen. Recently, I overheard him telling them:

Husband: “New house rule: if you want to bake with Daddy, you have to be wearing pants!”

Five minutes later: 

Husband: “Your own pants. Right-side up. On your legs.”

It’s been a long lockdown.

For Christmas one year, I make my niece’s partner a personalised drink can holder using a photo of their daughter. I put a can of beer in it before giving it to him.

Partner: “Oh, my two favourite things!”

He puckers his lips and kisses the photo of his daughter and then the beer.

Niece: “Hey, what about me?”

Partner: “Aww, jealous? When the beer’s gone, you can have your spot back.”

A few days before Christmas, my husband and I were shopping for the necessary food. We decided to split the list to make it go faster.

For some reason, other shoppers began watching whenever my husband and I met up to discuss anything.

I have an offbeat sense of humor. When the stares began to annoy me, I warned my husband what I would do if it continued.

The next time he came to me with a question, I loudly said, “No, sir, I will not go home with you to cook Christmas dinner!”

Aisle six suddenly appeared to be full of meerkats.