Love, Romance, and Smartass Alternatives

My husband and I will be celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary in September. This will actually be our platinum anniversary, which means he’ll likely get me something that actually consists of platinum.

I know this
because last year
was our Jackshit anniversary.

Anyway, the whole platinum thing has me a bit paranoid, because, as it turns out, aside from fine platinum jewelry, there are actually a GREAT MANY THINGS that consist of platinum.

Things like dental implants, pacemakers, and surgical pins.
Things like . . .
Fertilizer
Engine parts
And  
Explosives.

And, once I factor in my husband’s profound level of sarcasm along with twenty, Piper-fiiled-years of marital “bliss,” I’m a tad concerned that he might try to get me on a technicality.

And instead of getting a new, platinum nipple ring . . .

He’d suprise me with a small, ticking package. Wrapped in brown paper and twine. Stuffed with spark plugs, metal shavings, and just the right amount of TurfBuilder Plus. And a whole bunch of confetti just to keep things festive.

Moments later, as bits of confetti settle across the front lawn, my neighbors would gather around to see what I got.

First they’d gasp, but then their eyes would get wide. Then they’d smile and thoughtfully coo.

“Awwww . . .  He went to ACE.”
The Galleria of Platinum.

On the up-side, if I make it through this particular anniversary, I should be OK for the next several decades.

Our 30th will be a diamond.
Our 40th will be a ruby.
And our 50th will be a gallstone and a box of soft chews.

If I remember correctly, our 60th will be a set of monogrammed bed pans and a bag of mothballs . . .

And we’ll throw a HUGE party over at the Center for Bladder Control.

Maybe even hire a DJ.

The highlight of the night will be a sweet, romantic moment. A moment when all eyes will be on us. A moment when we will slowly, feebly make our way to the dance floor, hand in hand, as people get all choked-up and teary-eyed.

And the DJ will play our song.

“Oooooo That Smell . . . Can’t You Smell That Smell?”

Now that’s certainly something to look forward to.

Copyright 2011, 2012 Piper Donlevy, www.piperdonlevy.com
Little Bastard Wuz Here
 
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2 thoughts on “Love, Romance, and Smartass Alternatives

  1. Cheryl P. says:

    OK, now you have done it. You have me worried. Our 40th is coming up Sept.4th. I didn’t get plantinum for our 20th. Must of been something memorable as I totally haven’t a clue what I got.

    I am here to tell you, if hubby gets me faux ruby red slippers that make up a large portion of Kansas gift shops. (Our state has really tried to capitalize on that OZ movie) there won’t be a 41st anniversary.

    Am I being over optimistic that you might actually get a platinum ring? You might have a platinum coated frying pan handy if you get the Scott’s fertilizer. I think in that scenario that would make an excellent gift for him and his skull.

  2. Jargontalk says:

    “The highlight of the night will be a sweet, romantic moment. A moment when all eyes will be on us. A moment when we will slowly, feebly make our way to the dance floor, hand in hand, as people get all choked-up and teary-eyed.”

    And then your romantic song…

    Amy, I made the mistake of sipping my coffee when I was reading your latest. Should have known better, as the predictable happened… again!

    You’ll be getting the laundry bill.

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