For the entire month of December, your husband of one year, Samuel has been anxious about what to get you.

So you wake up on Christmas Day and roll over to find his spot in the bed vacant, pressing on, you go downstairs to have a cup of tea and you walk into the living room.

There, under the Christmas tree, is Samuel, hogtied with Christmas ribbon, blindfolded and with a bow stuck on his head. “Merry Christmas?” He mumble uncertainly.