One of the most frequent holiday-time conversations I have with my wife is when we’re out shopping and I see something I like. She tells me, wisely, not to buy it because what if I get it for Christmas? This is, of course, wise and sagacious and just, but it falls apart under the two prongs of my logic: I haven’t put it on any list. I’m absolutely going to forget it by the time I get home. Now, you…

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Not too long after we were married, my wife handed me a handwritten note, which I assumed, in my newlywed bliss, would be a poem of sweet nothings. Instead, it was a list of things like, “To-Do List (1),” “Writing List,” “Shopping List,” “List for Store,” “To-Do List (2),” and so on. It was a list of all the lists I had lying around the house.  This bit of sweet satire served a good point: I needed to get more…

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