On the eve of Christmas Eve, just after we had put the kids to bed, my husband warned me not to come downstairs. He could only be doing one thing ...

I thought we had agreed not to give each other Christmas presents this year, but his furtive behaviour suggested he hadn't stuck to his side of the bargain and had gone and got me something.

I felt a little panicky. This now meant that I was going to have to brave the other last-minute shoppers on Christmas Eve to find something for him. And I had no idea where to start.

In the past we have usually bought ourselves a joint, practical present, such as casserole dishes, rugs or crockery. It makes sense since we can't afford to buy the things we would really like to give to each other (a Mercedes for him, a home in the South of France for me - in case you're asking).

It also means that we'll really like at least one present we receive.

This year we were originally going to buy two more dining chairs, but during the run-up to the festive season we didn't see anything we liked and I just assumed our communal stocking would remain empty.

I hadn't thought of suggesting some sort of alternative present because time was running out and ... well ... he's not the easiest person the in the world to shop for.

Anyhow, I took our four-year-old, Eve, to the shops with me for some advice and began the long, hateful trek through the crowds at Churchill Square.

Books are usually a safe bet for my husband, but when I popped into Borders and saw that the checkout queue was longer than the queue for Santa's grotto, I went off the idea.

I then considered pants and headed for the men's department of Debenham's, where I know they sell the make and style my husband likes.

This proved futile, too. My husband only wears Sloggi pants in grey or blue and they have to be "midi" style.

He is quite specific about this. I've tried to introduce him to other designs, but he is more likely to change his religion than his pants.

As has happened so many times before, the Sloggi range on display didn't have the style he likes in the colour he prefers in the size he needs.

I had to think fast. Eve was getting very bored and we needed to get home before my husband.

Then it came to me. We'd been talking about getting some new wine glasses and I realised this would be an ideal practical present - and a nice surprise too.

I scurried over to the glassware department and began scanning the shelves for some simple, elegant glasses while Eve swung her arms around in a careless fashion and skipped around the wobbling displays.

I found what I was looking for, got them wrapped in the shop and hurried home.

On Christmas morning, while our children were surrounded with wondrous gifts and a sea of wrapping paper, my husband handed me a a square parcel.

"Merry Christmas darling," he said. I then handed him a similar square parcel.

"Merry Christmas darling," I said.

We both gave our parcels a gentle shake. We declared how exciting this was. We tore off the paper and ...

"How fantastic," we said in unison. "Glasses!"