THE DEFINITIVE SPOUSE’S BIRTHDAY PRIMER

                                        Django Unchained!

It’s with significant trepidation I announce today as The Old Ball and Chain’s birthday.

Please don’t ask her age. Absent her walking stick; without her thick as Coca Cola bottles bifocals; and having squirmed into her best spandex, she doesn’t look a day over 75.  She credits her preserved looks (like jam in a sky-juice bag) to her strict dietary regime.  Over the years, she’s treated vegetables like the plague.  Her standard breakfast: Pepsi and Chocolate Cake.  Lunch:  Ox Tail, rice and peas, macaroni and cheese and Pepsi (cake optional).  Then supper entails Patties, Danish and, you guessed it, Pepsi.

When asked why she refuses to eat veggies, she simply responds that, in her world, green stuff is for spending not eating. Also, she argues she requires food of substance in order to deal with her miserable husband and three noisy, hyperactive sons.

So I find myself celebrating Old BC’s 29th birthday for what seems to be the hundredth time.  Because, as always, I’ve readers’ best interest at heart, here’s a primer for those of you born yesterday (or maybe not yet married) on how to survive your wife’s birthdays.  It takes strategic planning weeks before the actual event.

·        Do NOT act on any throwaway remark from the wife like “Dear, I don’t want any gift for my birthday this year.  I know you can’t afford it.  Let’s pay down on the mortgage instead”.  That’s wife patois.  Standard English translation is “You lazy bum, I can’t believe we’re still living in the same rat hole in which we began our marriage.  At the very least, you should’ve paid off the mortgage already. I hope you’ll make a significant payment against the balance NOW.  Also, I expect a surprise birthday gift.”  That final sentence may sound like an oxymoron but experienced husbands know it as Wifespeak 101.  Work it out; make it happen if you know what’s good for you.

·        Do NOT buy a home appliance as her birthday gift.  That’s a capital offence. Under pressure, a nice plant will do but (and I’m speaking from bitter personal experience here) don’t hide the plant in your car the night before her birthday.  The plant will die.  If that happens, DO NOT proudly offer the dead plant hoping she won’t notice.  Mumble something under your breath about the damn overseas courier’s incompetence, get out early and buy something nice.

·        Jewellery is always appreciated.  Shoes next in line if you can’t afford jewellery.  Books are unwelcome innuendoes that she’s lacking in knowledge in some area.  Don’t go there.

·        Finally, when you’ve delivered the perfect gift for God’s sake make sure it’s accompanied by a card of the non-humourous variety. Now, here’s the clincher.  You’re not off the hook entirely even after the perfect gift AND loving card has been delivered.  When she’s thanking you profusely, you MUST say something like this: “It’s the least I could do for the world’s best wife who looks exactly as she did the day we were married.”  Keep a straight face while delivering that line.

Don’t be like the retired RAF fighter pilot and his wife of 50 years.  The story goes:

“On the evening of their 50th anniversary, his reminiscing wife found the negligee she wore on their wedding night and slipped into it. She said to her husband, ‘Honey, do you remember this?’

He looked up from the newspaper and said, ‘Yes, dear, I do. You wore that same negligee the night we were married.’

She said, ‘Yes. That’s right. Do you remember what you said to me that night?’

He nodded & said, ‘Yes, dear, I still remember exactly what I said.’

‘Well, what was it?’ she asked.

He was not in the mood for this, but he sighed, put his paper down and responded, “Well, Honey, as I remember it, I said, ‘Oh, Baby, I’m going to suck the life out of those boobs and screw your brains out’.”

She giggled and said, ‘Yes, dear. That’s it. That’s exactly what you said. So, now it’s fifty years later, and I’m in the same negligee. What do you have to say to me tonight?’

He looked up at her and replied, ‘Mission accomplished.’

The funeral was held the following Thursday at the Methodist Church. Due to the condition of the body, it was a closed casket service.”

Happy Birthday Old B.C. This is your day. Or, as Bill might’ve said to Monica, “Django Unchained!”

Peace and Love

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