According to tradition different anniversary years have themes. The first year is the paper anniversary, second is cotton, third is leather, etc. These themes supposedly help you determine which type of gift to buy your spouse. For those of you approaching your tenth anniversary, i've made it very easy for you to find the perfect gift because I decided the tenth anniversary should be called the Post It Note anniversary because if your husband is anything like mine, he doesn't remember a damn thing you told him. Ever. Unless it has to do with sex because then he totally remembers, but anything else, you might as well be talking to the dog.
Here's a classic example:
I had an ultrasound scheduled for 8 am on Monday morning to check on baby's growth, my fluid levels, and basically to see if he's ready to be born because my OB was thinking of inducing me this week due to some recent complications. I've known since last Thursday that I needed this ultrasound. I probably told my dear sweet hubby no less than 50 times about this upcoming appointment. We've talked about it, i've explained my doctor's reasoning for it, and i've explained that he will need to take our daughter to school because I wont be back in time to drive her. I made sure there was NO possible way he could forget about this ultrasound appointment.
Last night I informed my daughter that her dad would be driving her to school in the morning. Her reaction was, "Huh? Why?" but apparently she wasn't the only confused person in the room. My dear sweet hubby turns his head and gives me that look. Those of you who have been with someone for more than five years probably know this look well. It's kind of a cross between utter confusion and the stink eye, mixed with the squinchy face, and add a little bit of constipation on the side. I gave him a chance to redeem himself, took a deep breath and said, "Babe, you know why. I wont be here. REMEMBER I have an 8 am ultrasound in the morning?" to which he replies, "Um no, you haven't said anything about that at all"
This is where I had to excuse myself from the room because spousal homicide is highly frowned upon.
I started to wonder if maybe it wasn't my husband's fault and perhaps he truly had a hearing problem and needed some medical attention, but then I remembered that the man can watch soccer, football and UFC weigh ins and remember every last detail for weeks so I don't think dragging him to a hearing loss specialist would be very useful. Besides who wants to pay hundreds of dollars for a doctor to tell me what I already know...."Ma'am, your husband's hearing is perfectly fine. He just apparently suffers from selective hearing loss whenever you speak."
So ladies, save the expensive golf clubs for another year, forget about the stupid chocolates or smelly flowers (because seriously what man really wants flowers) go to Costco and buy an industrial sized box of Post It Notes. Write important shit down and slap it on his forehead (you can decide on the level of gentleness you place them on his head) so he cannot "forget". Because if your husband is anything like mine, the next time you tell him about an appointment, a meeting, a birthday party, a sporting event, basically anything that doesn't involve him getting sex, he will look at you and say, "Wait, what? No, you never told me that."