Chicken Soup for the Soul – I Can’t Stop Laughing
Compliled by: Amy Newmark
Publisher: Chicken Soup for the Soul Publishing, LLC
ISBN: 978-1-61159-461-4
Featuring:
The Trials of Training a Husband
by Kitty Chappell
(excerpt below)
~author unknown
It was our first Valentine’s Day as husband and wife so my Jerry was still in the early stages of what would be forty-seven years of training on how to be a thoughtful husband— specifically in gift giving.
I was hopeful that this wouldn’t be a difficult job since he offered much good raw material. It was his thoughtfulness and loving ways that first attracted me.
For example, the Christmas before we got married, he asked me if I was going to be available on Christmas Eve because he wanted to take me somewhere. It was to be a surprise. Lest I thought it would be a party, he told me to dress comfortably.
When he picked me up, I was surprised to see the back seat of his car loaded with wrapped gifts. Wrapped by him! And his trunk was filled with gifts, too! I knew that he came from a large family, but I didn’t know how large until that evening when he said we were going to deliver these gifts to his twenty-eight nieces and nephews!
If you want to know what kind of a father your man will make, just watch his interactions with children! At every home we visited, those kids were all over him! It was obvious that they all adored their “Uncle Jerry”! So, yes, I had good raw material to work with.
I was very pleased when, on that first Valentines Day, he gave me a pound of chocolate-covered cherries! How thoughtful! There was one problem, however, I did not like chocolate-covered cherries. In fact, I detested any kind of fruit covered in chocolate, be it cherries, strawberries, or apples. If I want fruit, I want fruit. If I want candy, I want candy. I do like, however, no, I love chocolate-covered nuts.
Since he was new in this husband role, though, I did not want to discourage him in his gift giving course by criticizing his selection of gifts for me—I wanted to encourage him. So, I smiled and gushed my thanks over his thoughtfulness. He beamed with pleasure and puffed out his chest with pride. I set the open box on the kitchen counter but never ate one of them. Jerry ate them all.
The second Valentines Day, I received another box of chocolate-covered cherries. I thought, “Oh rats, I forgot that this is what he gave me last year!” Again, I did not want to discourage this sweet trainee, so I smiled, gushed my thanks, gave him a big hug, and put the box on the counter. He ate every one of them.
“No harm, no foul,” I thought. At least he enjoys them.
The third Valentines Day, he gave me another box of chocolate-covered cherries. This time it was a four-pound box! As he stood there beaming, I thought, “I’ve got to let him know the truth! Next year I might get a ten-pound box of chocolate-covered cherries, and he is getting a little pudgy around the middle! But how can I do it? I don’t want to hurt his feelings.
I took a deep breath and said “Honey, you have no idea how much your thoughtfulness means to me. I appreciate it from the bottom of my heart, but I have a confession to make. Please don’t think I’m terrible for not telling you before this—I didn’t want you to think I didn’t appreciate you—but I really don’t like chocolate-covered cherries.”
His mouth dropped open, and with eyebrows raised in surprise, he stammered, “But I thought you liked them! Why did you eat them?”
I answered, “I didn’t.”
He said, “Who did?”
I said, “You did. I set the box on the kitchen counter, and you eventually ate every one of them. That’s one of the reasons I never said anything. I knew you liked them.
His eyes widened, and he said, “I don’t like chocolate-covered cherries!”
Shocked, I asked, “Then, why did you eat them?”
“Because they were sweet.”
And he eventually ate all four pounds.
Through the years he was gently taught that I did not want a vacuum cleaner, an electric knife, or a new set of luggage, or any other impersonal items for an anniversary gift. He said he thought that a vacuum cleaner was a personal gift since I was the only one who used it. (Hmm. I needed to train him in that area, too.) Nor did I want a release for my bow and arrow as a birthday gift. Perfume, jewelry, or a pretty negligee were the perfect personal gifts. Through the years, he proved to be an excellent pupil and surprised me with many perfect gifts.
Fast forward to forty-seven years together. As a speaker and author, I often went on speaking trips. The night following my return from one particular out-of-state trip, I had planned to attend a cookie exchange party. Knowing I would be rushed for time, I prepared the dough for two dozen cookies, placed the round cookie balls on baking sheets, covered them, and placed them in the large extra freezer in the garage. All I had to do was place them in a heated oven, bake them, and get to the party.
The day after I returned from my speaking trip, I was busy but relieved that I’d have just enough time to bake the cookies and dash to the party. I heated the oven and rushed to the garage freezer. I was shocked when I opened the door to see two empty cookie trays—just smudges where the dough had been. Mystified, I rushed into the kitchen and asked Jerry “What happened to the cookies I placed on the cookie sheets in the freezer?”
Surprised at my question, he said, “I ate them. I thought they were for me.”
“Honey, they weren’t even cooked! They were just raw dough!”
Tilting his head sideways, eyebrows raised in sudden realization, he exclaimed, “So, that’s why they didn’t taste very good!”
“Then, why did you eat them? Every one of them?”
“Because they were sweet!” he answered.
Some things never change.
* * *
Published in Chicken Soup for the Soul – I Can’t Stop Laughing compiled by Amy Newmark; released by Chicken Soup for the Soul in 2026. (p 144)