In our defence, what you have to understand is this: women and men are worlds apart when it comes to the whole 'presents' thing, not in the least because it gives you an extra excuse to indulge in your most - and our least - favourite activity, shopping. Come December, you girls will happily breeze into one of those gift shops that us blokes avoid like the plague, and buy something like a scented candle that even unlit smells like toilet cleaner, or alternatively you'll get one of those tiny, decorated boxes that's too small to ever hold anything useful, plus a card with some hideously abstract glitter-encrusted front and twee message inside, even when - and this is the killer for us guys - you don't even know who you're going to give it to.
Yet men hate shopping at the best of times, and particularly at Christmas, because then there's the added stress of having to buy something for someone else. Normally, we work on the 'if we need something, we buy it' principle, making the idea of presents a little redundant. And we kind of assume you do the same, which is why when it comes to buying you any sort of gift, our 'practical' head comes into play. We know you like handbags and silver jewelry, for example, but common sence tells us you've got more than enough of those already. There's always perfume, but then we're worried that you'll think we're only buying it for you because we don't like the way you smell. And clothes? You spend most of the rest of the year buying the season's must-haves for yourselves anyway, tutting at us if we dare to suggest that puffball dress might make you look pregnant, so how on earth can we be expected to make the right choice as we frantically sprint round Zara on our own at five p.m. on Christmas Eve?
Even when we do use our initiative, we're guaranteed to have it thrown back in our faces. My current girlfriend took one look at the back pack I bought her from Mango last year - a back pack I'd seen her admire several times - before oh-so-sweetly asking for the receipt so she could change it "for a different colour", then came home with yet another pair of shoes, because "they didn't have my size". Faced with this kind of reaction, is it any wonder you end up with something from us from Robert Dyas, rather than Roberto Cavalli?
And even if we do manage to negotiate the present-buying minefield, we then have the added stress of what to write in your Christmas card. 'Love from'? 'With love'? 'All my love'? These may all mean the same to us, but you girls can extrapolate whole relationship judgements from our choice of sign-off.
My friend Lucy used to do surprisingly well with the chat-up line "Can I buy you a replica rolex watch - or would you just like the money?" And nowadays, he applies the same approach to present shopping, making sure he takes his girlfriend with him whenever he needs to buy her a gift. She gets what she wants, which - when it's been lingerie - has meant that he does too. And sometimes even right there in the changing room, as he's fond of bragging. Romantic? Perhaps not. Foolproof? You bet!
So this year, if you don't want the usual disappointment of a clumsily-wrapped pair of Totes Toasties or a set of Allen Keys, at least give us a hint. Point things out to us in the jeweller's window. Tear the fashion pages out of Cosmo and leave them where we're sure to find them - inside the TV guide's as good a place as any. Write us a 'dear Santa' letter and slip it in with our Christmas card. Or failing that, just tell us exactly what it is you're after. And even then, make sure we keep the receipt.