How I’m Gonna Get Rich

One day I’m going to start a company that makes greeting cards which men can buy. I swear, it almost impossible to find a decent card; something without sappy cliched expressions of luuuuv, or stupid little cutesy cartoon characters, or lace and flowers, or else tired predictable told-a-hundred-times-and-not-funny-anymore-jokes about how wife (or mom or whatever) is a saint for putting up with sloppy or irresponsible or fill-in-the-stereotype husband (or child). Really, this bugs me. How about plain colors with “Happy Anniversary” or “Happy Mother’s Day” and that’s it?

Alas, because no such cards exist, everyone to whom I would have otherwise sent a card is going to have to be content with a phone call this weekend. Except at my house. She gets to go out for dinner, too. 

Oh, and in case your wondering, yes, my mother did raise me better than this.

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4 Comments on “How I’m Gonna Get Rich”

  1. Del Says:

    Well, good for you for taking her to dinner. The husband here, I found out after the first child was born, strongly feels that his mother is the only woman he is obligated to honor on Mother’s Day. I had to wait until the kids were old enough to carry a tray before getting breakfast in bed, which is all I ever ask.

    Then later on, I’ll be cooking dinner for my mother.

    And you’re right about cards.

  2. Kathy Says:

    When Parkside had a location in Vestavia Hills, it carried some hilarious cards. I would stock up there. Now, believe it or not, the mantle has been assumed by the Rain Tunnel car wash (also in VH). It’s definitely the place to go for non-mushy, wacky greeting cards.

  3. Dan Says:

    That’s why I generally refuse to do the card thing for all holidays.

  4. Dystopos Says:

    No one ever got rich selling greeting cards to men.

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