Because I'm not like other girls

Fred got me a washer and dryer for my birthday

This is a disclaimer to all and any men reading this... I am not like other girls. Buying a present like that for your wife will probably end up with you sleeping on the couch for an undetermined length of time, and spit burgers served for dinner. And most likely the longest "dry spell" (aka no bow chicka-bow-wow), you've ever experienced.

But me? I was ecstatic with my new, high-efficiency, front-loading, visions-in-white, time-savers. Mostly because it means that my husband listens to my never-ending griping about certain appliances that take almost two hours to dry a load of laundry because the stupid (man) person who designed it thought that a 30-minute shut-off gave the machine more than ample time to dry the articles within. I would like to meet that man and, you guessed it... kick him in the groin.

It took me a long time to be okay with the fact that I'm just not like other girls. I read the "Love Languages" book and figured out that "gifts" were definitely not mine. I'll probably get kicked out of the girl's club for saying this (heck, I think I'm already on probation), but jewellery doesn't do it for me. Neither do flowers... giving a person something that just ends up dying is rather morbid. I would rather the flowers stay in the ground and remain pretty and alive.

I like gifts that are useful.

I remember one birthday I asked Fred for some sort of kitchen appliance. He said no, he hates to buy those types of gifts. So I stomped my feet, wailed and gnashed my teeth some, and he gave in. And saw how happy my electric griddle/crockpot/blender (okay, I admit I can't remember what it was) made me. And he's been hitting the nail on the head ever since.

Don't worry, the washer and dryer were not the only gifts I received, Fred is a lot smarter than that.

And by the way, I do consider a massage and facial a very useful gift.