Screw You, Guy Who Invented Modern Anniversary Gifts

Please allow me to digress from Cubs baseball for- No, screw that. I don’t have to ask for your permission. This is for all you married guys or, in the alternative, for you guys dating girls who celebrate things like the first time you went under-the-shirt, over-the-bra. Miss Piggy Mrs. Kermit and I have our four-year wedding anniversary coming up this week, and I would just like to tell the assface who came up with “modern” anniversary gift ideas that he can kiss the collective ass of every married guy on the planet.

If you have no idea what I’m talking about, traditionally, each wedding anniversary carries its own theme for gift ideas. THIS idea was brilliant. I like to imagine some wise old guy celebrating his 50th anniversary thought to himself, “It would have been sweet if in each of the past 50 years I had a list of shit I needed to get my wife to shut her up for the subsequent year.” So, he made one for all of us saps, and it was brilliant.

Inherent in its brilliance was the fact that the gift themes slowly ramped up in cost and preciousness. So, the first anniversary was paper. Sweet. “Here’s a card, dear, and a picture of me on a bearskin rug. Happy anniversary.”

The second anniversary kicked it up a notch to cotton or straw. Sweet. “Here’s a card, dear, and a t-shirt emblazoned with a picture of me dressed like The Scarecrow on a bearskin rug.”

The third anniversary was leather. Sweet. “Here’s a card, dear, and a picture of me dressed as a- well, I believe it’s called a leather daddy on a bearskin rug.”

This year was going to be so insanely simple. The traditional gift for the fourth anniversary is fruit, flowers, or books. Presumably, in the coming years, I’d work my way up to the bigger things like diamonds and gold and adamantium. But then some asshole–possibly a shill for Hallmark–came up with the idea of adding a nonsensical modern twist to the gifts.

The so-called “modern” first anniversary gift is a clock symbolizing, presumably, “You aren’t getting any younger, dear. Let’s buy a sex swing.” Hey, guess what? Clocks have been around for a while. If we wanted to buy our wives clocks, we would have made that the traditional gift instead of a piece of looseleaf. Not that buying them a clock would make our wives on time for anything, anyhow, AMIRIGHTGUYS?!

The second anniversary was fucking CHINA. To recap so far, the traditional old wise man had me buying her a bag of cotton balls and a bale of hay for our second anniversary. This modern asshole expects me to drop $500 on a set of teacups that we’re never going to use. Call me crazy, but to me it feels wrong to eat a Totino’s pizza off a fucking $300 plate.

The third anniversary was crystal and glass. Really? Thanks a lot, asshole.

This fourth one is supposed to be an electrical appliance. To recap. If the wise old man had his druthers, in the last four years of marriage, I could have gotten away with buying my wife a card, a t-shirt, a dominatrix outfit (with whip!), and a bouquet of flowers. Thanks to the modern bastard, I’m forced to buy a trip to see Big Ben in London, a little Chinese kid, one of those giant beasts from The Dark Crystal, and a trash compactor. Because if there’s one thing my garbage needs to be, it’s more rectangular.

Screw you, guy who invented modern anniversary gifts. I hope you die alone.