The thing I love the most about these stories about disguised gifts is that the self-gifters always think they made this genius move, absolutely full of themselves, thinking they cracked some code, grinning like a cartoon bad guy, thinking they nailed it, and they’re finally about to catch the bird or cat or whatever it is that time. Only to be hit in the face with how obvious the self-gift is.

In their head, it is a clever two birds one stone move. In reality, it is one bored bird and one very obvious stone shaped exactly like their own interests. The reveal is never what they think it is. Instead of gratitude, they get that flat stare that says this is not a present, it is homework I never signed up for.

That’s always the problem with expectations, but when it’s your partner convinced this is the moment you finally see the light and join their fandom, hobby, or obsession, that’s just a bummer.