Two weekends ago, my husband Mark and I celebrated our 22nd anniversary. We spent the night at a cozy inn in Stowe, and we would have had a lovely time — if only we hadn’t pushed our luck. But on Saturday, we decided to go Christmas shopping. As a couple.
We hadn’t made that mistake in years.
Mark — a slow-moving, avid browser and generous spender — and I —a hermit and a miser (but really quite a hoot once you get to know me) — do not shop well together.