Diamonds, Fat Farms and Financial Armageddon

For my up-and-coming 26th  birthday (ahem) I've asked Humphrey to send me to a fat farm. (No, nothing so altruistic as rendering tallow so that children in third world countries can have lamps by which to study at night) just a simple wire-the-jaw-shut-bootcamp type fat farm.  (Actually, whilst I was thinking along the lines of a tropical getaway full of well-oiled Norsemen and Bircher Museli Masterchefs, Humphrey was thinking more of the one-way-ticket-to-a-Pacific-atoll accompanied by a packet of protein bars).
Ah bless the Humphster he is a fiscally responsible individual (goddam tightarse).  Many of you more prudent readers are probably nodding in agreeance that Humphrey sensible surgically sewed his wallet shut (years ago) in preparation for the financial Armageddon I intend to wreak on it in the coming weeks.... coming up to Christmas and all.
Sitting at the dinner table the other day we were discussing what would be a good present for Things One and Two.  In their minds anything that doesn't involve books or underpants or education in any way shape or form is a good present.   In fact anything that is plastic, has lights, sabres, lasers, is able to fly, shoot or do homework is a good present.   So here lies my dilemma.  I pretty much leave my kids to their own devices throughout the year.  I might half-heartedly throw a cricket/basket/foot ball every day now and then or even pretend to be the Fat Controller to Thing Two's Thomas The Tank Engine regularly once or twice (actually I'm sure the boys secretly call me the Fat Controller all the time).....and I think I need to be more, you know, involved.  Two girlfriends of mine are probably the (angels singing and trumpetting fanfare) BEST MOTHERS OF ALL TIME - and I feel hopelessly inadequate in their immaculate homes watching them gently deal with whiney kids and set up face-painting and personal discos for their cherubs.  I just can't be fagged.  If my kids whine I snap at them and threaten to leave them in their room until cockroaches start to look appetising; if they say they're bored I tell them I'll give you bored now get your arses outside and kick a ball, catch a butterfly or something. So I'm a bad Mum.  Social services are probably on their way over right now.
(Actually I do feel slightly better since I met Sandra over at Absolutely Narcissism.  She is possibly my twin - apart from the fact she has ripped abs and is possibly the best blogger in all Christendom.  Sandra and I have similar attitudes to everything, except exercise, but that's another story.....head on over and give her a visit, http://www.absolutelynarcissism.co/  she pays the shyte out of her husband....just like me!).
Anyway ADHD girl, back on track.....oooh shiny thing....stop it!! Ok, Christmas presents.  The Responsible Parent in me wants to give them e.d.u.c.a.t.i.o.n.a.l. toys...you know things that will stimulate the correct hemispheres and have them chatting about quantum mechanics.  The Imbecile Parent wants to give them fun things that have lights, sabres, guns and shiny bits - because I'm such a shyte mother 90% of the time and get really impatient when they're reading and can't sound out the word r.a.b.b.i.t. after reading it six times on  previous pages.  I think we'll compromise and get them something like a ping-pong table - you know, sport, coordination blah blah.
So I asked Humphrey what he wanted, thinking he would look at me with a glint in his eye and say..."Just you baby, with a big satin ribbon around (what was) your waist".  But no.  I received the same reply as last year, and the year before that, and the year before that;
"Oh, just something chromey and tooley that has the word SnapOn embossed on it."
Oh.........silence.......I'm waiting for him to say "What do you want for Christmas my gorgeous love goddess?"....but instead I get.......silence......
I hate silence during conversations.....it forces me to blurt out things just to, you know, fill the void.......
"OK, what do I want for Christmas? Why thanks for asking Humphrey....."
Before I get to finish Humphrey sighs and in a completely defeated tone says, "I know, I know.....you want something I just can't afford..."
"We'll don't you want to know what it is?"
He just looks at me with huge puppy eyes like I'm about to beat him with my studded truncheon (again).
I just don't have the heart to do it to him so I just sigh and say, "Well, I guess I'm going to buy my own present again this year."
For crying out loud it's not like I unwrap a new house every Christmas, or even a new car......I would like that little forlorn boat that I see when I cross the bridge each morning.....not that I can sail.
I never claimed to be sensible.
Perhaps just a little trinket....a shiny little something....that rhymes with "triamond"