The Anniversary Game requires finesse, tact, thoughtfulness, and above all, a functioning memory. That means that most men start out at a tremendous disadvantage. I began our marriage as an insensitive dolt. Over time, I progressed to a somewhat sensitive dolt by stopping by the all night drug store to snatch something off the novelty aisle at the last minute.
But after a couple of years of Celebrity Nail Files and bargain soap, my wife tried to take matters into her own hands. For the longest time, I kept finding pages torn from women's catalogues all over the house with yellow stickies on them. It was all I could do to keep them gathered up and thrown away.
Finally, in an act of desperate genius, she purchased an Add-A-Diamond tennis bracelet. I think she read about the technique in Anniversary Magazine - The Gameday Edition. She showed it to me and explained, "If you don't know what to get me for our anniversary, or my birthday, or Valentine's Day, or Presidents day, or the summer solstice, just add a diamond."
And that's when it all clicked for me - I suddenly had game and I could make the big play: slip the bracelet out, pass it to the jeweler, and slip it back in without so much as fingerprint to give me away. I got so good that I even had time to pick out one of those discounted anniversary cards at the drug store.
For her part, Lydia always acted like the extra diamond on the bracelet had appeared by magic. That's when I would point out, "No, it's no miracle - I wanted to surprise you with something special for our anniversary."
Then came our tenth anniversary this past November. Being vaguely aware of its significance, I decided I should spring for one of the full priced cards. And feeling confidant about my game, I decided to surprise her by filling up all the diamonds in the bracelet.
On the fateful morning, I watched Lydia as she approached the jewelry box where I had hidden the bracelet. Just as I planned, she picked it up and started to put it on.
"Can you help me get my bracelet fastened?" she asked.
I was eager to oblige. "Gosh, this is hard. It's so heavy and cumbersome," I said, fiddling with the clasp.
"Thanks," she murmured as I finished.
Suddenly, I realized that the Today Show was on television and she was locked in a Katie Couric Wardrobe Inspection Trance. Even worse, Katie was way out on a fashion limb.
I took aggressive action. "Are bracelet's like watches? You know my watch really chaps my wrist."
"No, I hardly even notice my bracelet," she voiced in a monotone. Then she stopped and made a face, "What was Katie thinking about with those boots?"
That's when I forgot all my Subtlety Training and just started staring wide-eyed at her wrist like she was showing the first telltale signs of the bubonic plague. After a few minutes, she suddenly looked me straight in the eye, took a deep breath and said, "I don't know, I guess they're okay, it just seems a little early for boots." With that, she pecked me on the cheek and headed to the door.
I tried not to panic and reminded myself that my wife is a jewelry pro - she can nail karats and designer in a crowded room at fifty paces. So I froze to my spot in the bedroom, waiting for a shriek of joy.
When I heard the door slam, I bolted. I chased her halfway down the driveway in my boxers before I got her attention. She rolled down her window. "I almost forgot," I stammered, "Happy Anniversary."
"Thanks", she smiled. "I really liked the card."
"Oh, you're welcome. Uh, can you tell me what time it is?"
"Oh my goodness," she said excitedly as she looked at her wrist, "Look at the time, I'm going to be late." Then she waved and sped away just as my daughter's carpool eased into the driveway.
It was a life changing moment for me - my Anniversary Game was so good, it was bad. Not only that, but I don't think my carpool game will be the same, either.
Happy Anniversary, anyway.
http://accesswdun.com/article/2003/2/183279