Yesterday I received an email from some random ticket retailer about upcoming U2 concerts. If you read my blog way back when (when exactly, you ask? Oh, you remember, those days when I was new to blogging and a really crappy writer. Remember? Yes, those days.), you may recall me writing a post about concerts I wanted to see sometime in my lifetime, and of course it’s obvious, SINCE I’M WRITING THIS BLOG POST, that U2 was on that very list. So I naturally was really excited to see that they were going to be performing in Chicago next year and immediately asked Rob if we should bite the monetary bullet and buy tickets.

We decided to take the plunge and spend the (lots of) money to buy some killer tickets for their concert next summer at Soldier Field. However, since we never did get around to planting that money tree in our backyard, I made Rob promise that the tickets would be our Christmas present to each other. And even though he “promised” I still have my doubts about Rob because he loves to buy gifts for people. Anyone. Hey You, want a present? Rob will buy one for you. Buying gifts is like some kind of trippy high for him, and okay, I kind of like that quality about him, like when I got home from Florida a couple of weeks ago and he had a gift waiting for me on my pillow. No matter that it was in one of those pink bags from that one lingerie store in the mall, NO MATTER, I SAID. That point is, he’s thoughtful. So I wouldn’t be surprised if, come Christmas morning, Rob has more gifts for me after we promised each other we wouldn’t do that. And then I would feel bad because I took our promise seriously and didn’t have anything to give to him Christmas morning.

Yeah, he would totally do that to me, DANG IT, HE’S TOO NICE.