Dear Self

Note to self:

When your handsome and delightfully thoughtful husband surprises you with an unexpected over-the-top romantic gesture while you are sitting on the couch in a stained tee shirt, grubby sweats and your hair resembling something insects may call home, perhaps it is in your best interest to can the smart talk and look directly into your husband's baby blues and tell him how much you love him.

This would be preferable to the route you chose, asking him if this is a make up present for some wild night with an unknown toothless stripper that he is harbouring oodles of regret and guilt over while picking the underwear out of your butt crack.

Dear self, instead of asking who he paid to wrap the ridiculously small package with the pretty ribbon and sparkly paper, it would serve your best interests if you just told him how lovely the wrapping job was. Instead of reminding him that he has over-sized man hands with fingers that resemble large beefy sausages and how he can barely manage to pick his own nose let alone fumble with a roll of tape for the woman he unwisely professed his love to a decade ago.

Self, it may behoove you to just keep your freaking yap shut as your carefully unwrap the pretty package under your husband's loving gaze. Just accept the fact that your husband is obviously more thoughtful and romantic than you and enjoy the moment. There is no need to remind your lovely man that he married an asshat. I'm sure he knows this rather well by now.

And dear self, when you finally open the small velvet box to reveal a beautiful set of diamond solitaire earrings that sparkle as though a million suns were caught and trapped beneath their glassy exterior just for you, perhaps it is in your best interest to just remain silent for a moment and revel in the love your husband is so willingly bestowing upon your sorry ass you.

That would have been a much wiser course of action than opening the box and having your jaw gape open, only to quickly recover and look at him and ask him, "How the hell did you pay for these?" in a screechy shrewish manner.

Dear self, while you gazed admiringly upon your new sparkly earrings and mentally kissed the days of having to wear cheap fake replicas purchased from Wal-mart goodbye, perhaps you should have just humbly said thank you to your darling husband and kissed him for his wonderful generosity.

Surely that would have been much nicer better than examining the jewels and remarking on how small the earrings looked in the box. Did you really have to tease your husband and ask him why he didn't get you bigger stones? I mean, really Self, sometimes even I want to kick your ass.

It would have been much more to your benefit if you had simply tried the earrings on and commented to your fabulous husband on how large the earrings look in your ears. Because, as I'm sure you know Self, all men like to be told how large their stones are.

Perhaps next time, if you heed my fine advice dear Self, you will simply be able to bask in the joy of knowing your man loves you enough to surprise you with shiny expensive baubles as you enjoy gloating and bragging showing off your new trinket to all your friends.

Maybe next time you won't have to break out the knee pads and faux leather whip while prancing around in killer stilettos in a desperate effort to pry your feet out of your mouth and earn the jewels already bestowed upon you.

Maybe next time dear Self, when you ask your darling husband if you've been a naughty girl and ask if you need a spanking, he won't look you square in the eyes and say, "Don't tempt me Tanis."

Learn from me Self. I'm the dumbass with the shiny new sparkly diamonds and the slightly annoyed husband.