Sometimes my husband has flashes of brilliance. For instance, he recently informed me that we met exactly 25 years ago on Super Bowl Sunday.

“I think we’re going to have to celebrate,” says he, then proposes that we have his mother’s diamond engagement ring retooled into an anniversary band.

“Oh, no.” I said, thinking of athletic fees and insurance co-pays and the holiday credit card free-for-all, about which I may not have been entirely fiscally transparent.

“My mind’s made up,” He insisted.

“Well,” I said with a shrug, “I’ve done all I can do.”

I then pulled up my Pinterest page which, coincidentally, had an entire board dedicated to ring design. Because I am nothing if not prepared.

Isn’t it good that after all these years, we have the ability to surprise each other? Who could’ve foreseen that I would be darn near giddy over the thought of a fancy diamond ring? My engagement ring with its diamond chip was purchased at an antique store for $110 –which was ridiculously expensive for two broke college students. I wasn’t even sure I wanted the darn thing, because feminism.

Now here I am, showing all my friends the design and chittering about it with the same frenetic energy as a lab monkey in a caffeine study. This is not a response I could have predicted, probably because asking me if I wanted a diamond ring was akin to asking if I wanted a pet octopus or if I’d enjoy eating smoked puffin or whether Dubai hotels had become too expensive. I have no opinion on any of these because they are bloody unlikely to happen. I like to expend my mental energy on realistic futures, thank you. Like creating an emergency plan for the upcoming climate-led wine shortage, or desperately hoping a hostile foreign power unleashes an electric magnetic pulse, destroying our entire modern way of life, because at least it will get my kids off Snapchat for a freaking minute. You know, stuff that matters.

But apparently, lurking in a overlooked corner of my mind, was the thought that I really, really like diamond jewelry. It seems that I like diamonds the same way Elizabeth Taylor liked diamonds. I guess I should have known, given the many similarities between us. What? She was a popular and insanely talented female artist generally accepted to be the most beautiful woman on earth and I…am also female. We’re practically twins!

The resemblance is uncanny.

So now we know; Kirk like to get me diamonds and I like to receive them. The next 25 years are looking up! Also good…? From here on out, my Christmas list pretty much writes itself.



The Rise & Fall of a Momocracy

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