My wallet

Roger was pretty good at convincing me to do things. C'mon, look at how he "tricked" me into our first meeting. Even last year for my birthday he convinced me that I really didn't want to go to the beach but I wanted to go to Universal and renew our passes.
I'm not sure why I was so malleable around him but its kinda funny if you know how stubborn I am 98% of the time.

So last Christmas-ish time, we walked into a Pier 1. We had about an hour to kill before a movie so what better way to waste time than to redecorate your entire house in your head.
Of course being Christmas time, they had several items for stocking stuffers. They weren't that expensive so I was just browsing.

Backstory:
I am not a huge fan of Christmas decor and just the whole Christmas thing in general.
First, I think the stores and people start it way too early each year.
Second, I sang Christmas carols in choir from September through January from 4th grade until I was a senior in high school. Can you say over-exposure?
Third, I just think its way too stressful and it doesn't have any meaning except for the gifts buying/receiving thing.

So back at Pier 1, I found this wallet that was really kinda neat. It wasn't real leather or anything but cute. Its red with some nice flower design on the outside.
Totally cute.
They also have these cute coin change holder thing that opens when you squeeze it. I hadn't seen one of those since I was a kid and back then they were usually plastic and free.
Also totally cute.
I'm standing there contemplating in my head to buy these for myself.
There cute and cheap. What other reasons do I need?

Roger comes up behind me and says:
"Oh those are cute."
"Yeah, I think I like them" as I hold them, stare at them, open them, close them.
Roger then kills the whole moment...
"They look Christmas-y"
Done. Over. I drop them like a grenade.
Okay, off to look at something else completely non-Christmas related.

I think I've mentioned this before but it just amazes me how many little, big, silly, and important things remind me of Roger. Now I open my purse (which matches the wallet perfectly by the way) and see my little coin change holder and my wallet that Roger went back several days later to get for me.
He knew I liked them.
He knew I wanted them.
But he also knew how to temporarily make me hate them.