The Flaming Grandpa

Posted: November 6, 2008 in I'm an asshole, marriage, wife

So, last week was my 13-year wedding anniversary.

How did we spend our Saturday night?

At some romantic getaway?

A candlelight dinner?


Seeing as I’m not gay, we didn’t go dancing.

We didn’t do any of the other shit, either.

Because we had to go to a fucking birthday party.

My stepfather’s 80th birthday party.

You read that right.


Apparently, my mom likes her junk uber-wrinkly.


Wife: “What do you get for an 80 year old?”

Me: “I don’t know. A burial plot?”

I’m guessing, at 80, he already has one.

Regardless, I had ONE job to prepare for this party:

Wife: “Go get Frank a birthday card.”

Me: “Okay.”

Wife: “Don’t get one that says he’s close to death or anything.”

Me: “Awwwww.”

Sail…say goodbye to wind.

So I took my son to Target (pronounced “Tar-Jay” for those of you uncivilized folk), and returned with a card.

My wife looked at it when she got home.

Wife: “Um…could you find a gayer fucking card?”

I looked at it.


The card was flaming pink.


It was flaming pink on the top half, and hot lime green on the bottom.

Completely appropriate for an 80 year-old ex-military man.

Me: “Oh.”

But then, I thought, it didn’t matter.

Me: “So what. Frank’s color blind. He’ll have no idea what color it even is unless someone tells him.

My wife then dutifully added:

Wife: “Rod, it has a friggin’ JEWEL ON THE FRONT OF THE CARD.”

I looked again.

Indeed, the giant decorative cake drawn on the front of the card…

…right in the middle of the florescent pink section…

…had it’s top adorned with…

a big, flashy rhinestone.

Me: “Oh. Look at that.”


That card is totally gay.

This is why guy’s shouldn’t buy ANYTHING if their wife asks them to.

I totally should have gone with the Reaper card.


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