What Women Want….on their birthdays

The truth of the matter is that I don’t know what I want for my birthday.

The truth of the matter is that I want you to find it out. Dip into my subconscious, read it like a book, and figure it out for me.  Until you do that, I’m going to pretend I actually know.

Of course, I won’t tell you what I want. OK, now its my fifth birthday with you and you have consistently brought costly shitty stuff that you should know I don’t like. Its obvious you don’t love me as much as I do.

You want to know what I want? Why cant you just ask me. NO…not “shall I get you a necklace?” Because now I know what you are going to get me, and that is just unromantic. You are ruining my surprise. Just ask me something leading. Do you wear rings? This is a smart question. And mix it up with a lot of similar questions. And don’t ask like a week before. You should be planning this like months before. What? I do it for you, don’t I?

A cricket match on my birthday? And you really don’t know what to choose? How about a lonely life? And you are really asking me this question? Why have I not dumped you yet? That very question just ruined my birthday for me. Can someone arrange an orientation session for this specimen where he is informed that he has to spend every waking moment of my birthday for me…living and breathing in his love for me.

Just because I like clothes and perfumes, doesn’t mean you get them for me. There is something called taste, which you obviously don’t have, which is why I pick your clothes for you. And you cannot take the trouble of asking my fashionable friends, you have to ask your fashion handicapped sister. At least listen to me when I say …OMG…that dress is so cool…I wish I could buy it…at which point you can come back to the store and buy it and store it for 5 months later…but you’ve obviously zoned out.

I am NOT deciding where we are going for my birthday dinner.  Because I decide the other 364 days…cant you do just one? I am not a picky person, you know…I am OK with anything. Come on, that’s unfair, that was Chinese, you know I hate Chinese.

Surprise, surprise.  That is actually a good gift. But you can’t take the trouble to wrap it up in pretty paper and ribbons?

What is a good gift? The one I bought you, of course. You didn’t appreciate it, cos you have bad taste, but aren’t you wearing it now? Stop making faces and don’t try that line on my birthday.

Of course I am going to say I want something simple, something romantic, nothing grand. You want me to say, I want something grand and hugely romantic and out of this world that I will be blown off my seat and sound like a spoilt attention seeking brat? Yeah, I don’t say what I mean, and you decide to learn that on my birthday?

Who said sex is off the menu. If its been a really romantic day, and you’ve been saying a lot of I love yous, giving me rubs and touches all day, you know, as though, you can’t get enough of me. How can I really resist you?

And if Suja’s husband took her to Maldives for her birthday, watch my reaction to it. If I think they are overcompensating show offs, you can breathe a sigh of relief, but if I am impressed, you better makethattrip at least to Goa, because I don’t want to tell anyone that we rented out a movie and slept in because you had a hectic week.  I have a reputation you know.  And being in a happy relationship is something I work hard to showcase, no thanks to you.

You still don’t know? If its years down the line, and I am really tired of this, I’m OK with that gourmet food basket. At least its pretty and I hope you know what I like to eat. Or maybe we are married, which means I am really tired, and have taken to telling you what to get me or we just go out for dinner. Some place I choose. It’s a working day anyway or we have a child or two. Say that you love me and care about me – its what all this was about anyway. You showing me that you love me, because you obviously don’t say it enough or anymore. Maybe say something nice to me. It would be a welcome change from “did she poop?” or “why can’t you park properly”.

But the simplest of all rules.  Turn of that damn phone!

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