Thursday, August 21, 2008

An Open Letter to My Husband


Dear Bryan,
I recognize that sometimes we have very different tastes. For example, this morning when I showed you my new shoes? And you glanced down at my super sweet flats with the olive colored bakelite button adorning the toe just so and you asked me with concern if I knew I had dropped cucumber slices on my new shoes? I realize now that was your way of saying you did not fully appreciate my new shoes. And I get it, truly I do. Ha ha, that was a good one, Bry. Cucumber on my shoes.
But here's the thing. My birthday is in T-minus 9 days. August 30th, not the 31st as you proudly exclaim when I quiz you on such things. Valentine's Day is February 14th, every single year, okay? Just like my birthday is on August 30th. Consistently. For like the last 36 years. Another tip? The thought does not count. Because really? The thought? The thought is just a fart when I want me some shit.
You didn't know you had married such an eloquent young lady, did you? And I am young. 36 is still young. Because no matter what I will always be 37 days younger than you.
Because you are old and doddering and I know oh-so tired, this year I am doing you a favor. This year I am making it so you don't have to take the time and effort to print out yet another gift certificate from the Anthro website. I mean, I know how you hate to use printer toner. No, this year, I'm telling you EXACTLY what I want. And what I want is this (no ink cartridge required):

I want a trip to Giraffe Manor. Just a long weekend, really. It's a good thing that my birthday this year falls on Labor Day weekend because with a telephone number that starts with + 254 I'm thinking it might take a while to get us there. But that's what I want. To feed a giraffe a slice of fresh mango through an open living room window on my birthday. Not a massage or a bauble or even a frock. A giraffe.

Is that so much to ask? Yeah, I didn't think so, either.

And the good news for you is that the website proclaims that the property is not only home to giraffes but the indigenous Bush Buck, and Lord knows how you love yourself some Bush Buck.

So there you go, dear husband. You can thank me later. And on the morning of August 30th I swear I will act surprised when I open my eyes to the flutter of long feathery giraffe eyelashes on my cheek.

Love you, too.

Your (much younger) wife.

14 comments:

Annie Empiric said...

How rad would that be?! And weird.

kate_nyc said...

you are fantastic::)))

Courtney said...

And Dear Bry,
Could you be a doll and invite all her blogger friends along as well?

Much love,
the very fun-loving group of blogger friends that are faithful readers to your ever-so-loving wife.

I *Heart* You said...

and don't forget to buy Susannah her very own giraffe to take home...you know...as a souvenir.

happy early birthday my dear susannah!!!!

Megan said...

"a fart when I want me some shit..."

So excellent. And why is it that husbands named Bry/ian are so agg about the toner use?

Jessie said...

ACH! I am gasping for air! Giraffes are my favorite animal, by a LOOOONG shot, (get it?) and I am telling you right now that if you ever go here?

I will be jealous of you forever.

Jozette said...

i think that would be the COOLEST thing eva! i saw a show on this, i think on national geographic. it's so neat. so bry, help a sister out. i mean, you carried his child for eff's sake. the least he can give you is a giraffe.

Rosalie said...

Oh please. You would be tickled pink with an adequately gassed up anthro gift card and you know it. If not, Bryan can give it to me.
Love,
Rosalie

benson said...

I have these pictures/article from Giraffe Manor in my nightstand table!! I would LOVE it.

Morgan said...

THIS IS GREAT!, i would loveee to spend a weekend @ giraffe manor. ahha

Robin said...

I hope you have an amazing birthday - giraffes or no. My husband went on a trip to South Africa before we met and I love his photos. Someday...

Kathi D said...

I have actually been to Giraffe Manor, and you really do want to go, I'm not kidding. If this beautifully-written letter doesn't do the trick, I volunteer to bitch-slap your husband.

The giraffes have amazingly long tongues, they are not shy about asking for food, and occasionally they puff air at you that you really think might be a spit at first but it isn't. I'm pretty sure.

Mimi said...

We share the same birthday! Have a happy one.

Jessicas Follie said...

Giraffe Manor is more wonderful than can be explained. Tickled me so to read this entry. So fun. We went about 4 years ago with our 4 children. It was one of those trips where I was constantly pinching myself. Worth every penny. And every pair of shoes that I gave up saving to go.

Hope you get something equally as wonderful for your birthday and the promise to be taken here someday.