Great Expectations

I have a confession. I’m absolutely terrible at reactions. Seriously. Tell me I won a new car. Go on, tell me.

See? No reaction. I would smile and say I don’t believe you. Even if I got it, a little squeal would be in order, but that may be it. Despite reports to the contrary, I’m a very introverted person. I can get along with anyone, but at the end of the day I prefer my own space, my own company, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.

This is not to slight my wonderful family, I hope I don’t come across that way. But I tend to appreciate and respect in silence and not show a huge amount of outward emotion. I do, however, try my best to play it up for Ericka and the children, the people who matter most. I want them to know I am aware of their hard work and I would love to give an Oscar-worthy picture-perfect reaction each time. But, alas, I fail.

When Ericka ran out to three different stores to find me the ever-sold-out Sly 3 (which is brilliant, btw). When Ericka went and found the best damn wireless PS2 controller there is. Both times, I underwhelmed. I loved (and still love) both gifts. But upon receipt, I smile, say thank you, hug, but just don’t quite bring the Oprah Winfrey Bought Everyone A New Car excitement I should have.

I could throw out a few excuses here. Reasons too (as if there’s a difference). But in the end, somewhere there’s a Hoyle’s Definition Of Reactions, and I just suck at them.

Remember the birthday party? Ericka has given approval over the iPod Nano reaction. Apparently I had a good reaction time, I said the right words, squealed in the right places. I try to remember what I said, did, how I looked at the present, the methods involved. Unfortunately, it’s not clear or concise enough to write down (to create my own little Handbook Of How To React), but I do think I have a decent blueprint.

While I couldn’t stop smiling during my entire party, even so I wonder if I truly expressed my gratitude. Maybe I’m not old fashioned enough and need to send Thank You Notes. Of course, my geeky ass would send Thank You Magic Cards With Penny Arcade Strips On The Back. You know, to give it a little oomph.

Because in the oomph department, I’m sorely lacking. Now excuse me while I practice going apeshit over my Microwavable Hamburger Helper (With New Dehydrated Meat Chunks!).

I’m sure if I practice hard enough, I may just wet myself. By the time Christmas rolls around, I should have perfected the art of Hernia Creation. One can only hope for such raw discipline.

“See that wet spot and this muscle tear sweetheart? That’s what you call appreciation!”

Jesus don’t want me for a sunbeam
Sunbeams are not made like me