When we started decorating for Christmas, and talking about making gifts for people for Christmas, Mr B’s response was “I don’t do Christmas”.
He lied, or something. This is what happened here in the buttfuck middle of nowhere on Christmas Day.
Mr B hopped on his tractor and started grading and leveling the ground at the spot where we want to put our little house. When I said something to him about how that was a great Christmas gift, he quickly set me straight and told me it was a wedding gift.
OK, Mr B. We’ll call it a wedding gift if that fits your worldview and ideologies better. Either way, thank you!