The Epic Absurdity of Anniversary Gifts

Pottery? Paper? WILLOW?

It’s my 9th wedding anniversary today and that means my secret mystery present ingredient is … willow. What on earth. Why? What could my husband possibly want that’s made of willow? What do I want besides maybe some time to binge-watch “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”?

That’s basically all I ever want to do anyway.

In the past, we’ve managed to take some of these ideas and run with them. For the cotton anniversary, we bought each other underwear. For leather, we browsed one of the oldest and most renowned Christopher Street fetish shops, trying on jackets and blindfolds. We would have bought something from the kind, if bemused, salespeople, but it turns out good leather is almost as expensive as a head of cattle.

Next year will be easy: aluminum? He can come home with a case of Diet Coke and I’ll be thrilled.

But this year, willow? Besides a trip to an arboretum or something, I’m coming up blank. How have you made these wacko suggestions work for you, or do you not bother taking direction from history?

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