anti-itch anniversary

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He is impossible, which, if I could simply accept this fact–accept him, as is–would make my life easier. We’re no longer new, despite the fact that every time we learn something new about each other, we’re quick to state the opposite. “Wait, so you like chocolate only if it comes with something else, like a nut? You don’t like it on its own, truly? We’re totally new.” Today is our seventh wedding anniversary. I gave him a card.

He doesn’t accept gifts graciously. One year for his birthday, I presented him with an iPad, having just been released to the market. He’d done the research pre-release, said it was a waste of money, he had no interest. I should have listened, right? Believe people when they tell you things. Only, I believed that I knew him better than he knew himself. So, I bought it, wrapped it, handed it to him after he blew out his candles (on the special cupcakes I had made). When he saw it, his face tightened. “I told you not to,” wasn’t said in a sweet, “Oh, you shouldn’t have,” bloom of admiration. It was said in a tone reserved for a dog who’d just shit in his favorite pair of shoes. He couldn’t return it, the iPad or the lack of grace. The gift was forced upon him, and it grew to be one of his all time favorite things. He may have admitted as much, only not in so many words. Actually, with no words. He just smiles with a sideways glance, as if caught enjoying something.

This singular gifting triumph, however, has henceforth lead to a series of failures. Last year, for Christmas/ Hanukkah, I bought him rugged man shoes, warm nubby socks, a quilted jacket–all very man about town, fashion forward but still practical. I slipped a handwritten note inside each gift, one inside the inner pocket of his jacket, with an iPod playlist of songs, a wound up note rigged around the socks, some bit about thanking him for always letting me put my cold feet on him. All returns.

He doesn’t garden. There will never be a tool shed in his life. He thankfully has zero interest in golf. He’s not particular about wine or cheese. He’s not into cigars. He’d sooner die than wear an Hermes belt (agreed!). I buy him shoes during the year, so they’re seldom gift worthy. He wants no part of more cufflinks, and he never wears ties or suits. He’s not a coffee book table guy (does anyone ever truly want a coffee table book?!) Cashmere sweaters he has. As a wedding gift, I gave him a very special watch. We just ordered a big shipment of Texas BBQ, so that was out. Though nothing says, “Seven years strong” like vacuum-sealed sausage. Over the years I’ve bought him more food gifts than I can count. Gifts for the Margarita Machine, for the grill, chili bowls with a ladle and Vietnamese cinnamon, with a chili cookbook. A deep fryer with Thomas Keller’s fried chicken mix. A pandora-friendly satellite radio for his car, which he went on to sell along with the car.

With my father, I gave up a long time ago. He told me not to waste any money, that he was always just happy with a card, that there’s nothing he wants. If he wants something, he buys it. This year, for his birthday, I drew him a picture, and got him a card with a dancing mustache. It was perfect.

Over the years my favorite gifts from Phil have mostly been jewelry–because those are the gifts I wear and love daily, the gifts that line a jewelry box and tell a story. I remember each and every piece of jewelry given to me, from different suitors, from girlfriends, from my parents. It lasts. Diamond earrings, pearl earrings, a gold ring engraved with my favorite quote. The Straight Up and Thirty scrapbook gift was a hero, and something that took planning, which I love. When he does last-minute, for the most part, he does it well: once he wrapped my own cowboy boots up in paper, and inserted a note that these shoes would be doing some walking in Austin, for a week, while he stayed home with the kids. Then there was the last-minute Mother’s Day video edited by iPhone gift. Vegas is the gift that keeps on giving, how we love going there, we really do–he totally took me by surprise, while there, when he bought me the IT BAG. I think that’s my favorite gift, because it’s beautiful, it was a surprise that took some scheming, I use it daily, and it was a very Pretty Woman moment. That he did that still takes my breath away.

He’s had some fails, too. Like the most disappointing Mother’s Day to date, which I somewhat forgive and would gladly forget, if he’d step things up and prove that he finally gets it! NOTHING LAST MINUTE IS VERY LASTING. I also realize that writing about this isn’t ever going to paint myself in a very favorable light. It’s very, how can he win with such demanding expectations? Isn’t it the thought that counts? Yes, the thought that went into it counts, so does the effort, and ultimately what there is to show for it, the token of expression. If I were to read this, I’d want to shove the writer into an airplane bathroom and keep her locked up for an hour. Because who talks about this, complains, when there’s so much good in her life? Get over it.

I’m not over it, but this year, I can wear it more loosely. It’s not some dramatic anti-climactic, overboard tear-filled moment. I’m actually happier this year than I have been in our marriage. I feel good about where we are, how much better things are. If marriage is about acceptance and communication, then here’s mine. I accept that he has sucked some in the gifting department, but I also believe with good communication (CLEARLY SPELLED OUT) that this can be a teaching moment.

One year for our anniversary, when we were living in Austin, he went to a cheesy lingerie shop and presented me with some sheer black negligé, something a college boyfriend might pick up for Valentine’s Day. It’s not something worthy of celebrating the day you chose to marry each other; it’s not special. It’s not wrapped special with scented paper in glossy boxes. It wasn’t intentional; it was black polyester. We sat in couples therapy, and I remember the therapist eventually saying to Phil, “Well, at least you know not to make that mistake again.” This year he did not make the same mistake, no. This year, he bought white polyester.

What not to give for an anniversary present.
Wife of seven years, you get her polyester. No wonder it’s called the Seven Year Itch! Notice that the black thong is still attached, never worn.

Clearly, I haven’t been clear. I’m going to spell it out. Mother’s Day, Christmas, and our Anniversary matter to me! Give yourself 4-6 weeks for delivery, and plan ahead. Gift wrap, scheme. Think of a way to involve a waiter! An anniversary gift can be a gift for us, a weekend away, ideally to somewhere neither of us has been before. Or something cool for the house, a cloud of sexy cotton bedding. For my birthday, something small for me to unwrap, a charm, a perfume without synthetics, or a Trish McEvoy makeup planner. Candles on a cake made of fresh whipped cream (not buttercream), yes, sing. Valentine’s Day, here’s a secret: avoid Victoria’s Secret. I would much prefer a pima cotton nightgown. There. It might sound demanding, but at least it’s spelled out. NOTHING POLYESTER. By the way, flame-retardant as they are, polyester pajamas don’t even touch the bodies of our children, which you know, have always known, since I rant on about how they must be 100% cotton, or forget it.

Today, you left the gift on our bed. And when you later phoned to ask me how I liked it, you said, “Did I get the right material this year?” Seriously. You KNEW, knew enough to look, or remember to infer that you looked, even if you didn’t. I peeped out a small, “no,” to which you responded, “I’m sorry. I’m the worst!” Which made me smile through my quick tears. You then searched Lord & Taylor, went to Manhasset’s Americana, looked for flowers but they were all “Dark fall colors.” So, you came home with Lychee Sake and Cherry Bourbon for yourself. I know you tried, but let me put you our of your misery. In the future, refer to this list or hunt down my pinterest boards to get an overall sense of my style. When in doubt, do what I do, and ask Leigha.

As for me, I think what I’ve learned is that you will likely always begrudge any gift I give, you’ll say you don’t need it, don’t like it, maybe even infer that it’s really a gift for ME, secretly disguised as something for you. I will expect this. And you can choose to return it, which will never hurt my feelings. I’m just going to assume that you want to return it. I think it’s a better plan than only giving you a card from the heart, as I did this year.



  1. Honestly, husbands. Please, we just want it to appear that you care and put 5 minutes of brain activity into choosing the gift. I don’t care about cost. It could be a doodle on a diner napkin. The worst offense is to blindly throw money at it. Like several holidays where I literally got cash in a card. Payment for what? What an icky feeling.

    Scrapbooks and video cards are worth a ton in gold. They sustain us until the next polyester negligee surprise, like sour milk in the coffee.

    When it’s my turn, I sit down and crawl inside your brain and imagine being you, and what you desire for a gift. I think I succeed 98% of the time.

    On a light note, please direct me to specific brands for children’s cotton pajamas!

    1. Author

      Scrapbooks take so much work, but I agree. I feel the same way about handmade art, nothing that was slapped together, but where time and thought were really put in.

      As for cotton pajamas, and lots of other gift ideas, I love RueLaLa. Roberta Roller Rabbit has special gift pajamas, not cheap. Cute designs and great fabric also at Tea. Hannah Anderson does great cotton pjs (we mostly get these as gifts from Phil’s parents, which we really appreciate, and the kids love them), especially when you get them on sale. Costco carries 100% cotton pjs, Kirkland brand. Also, BedHead PJs, which are also special.

    2. God, seriously? This is NOT what all women want. Plenty of us are happy & secure and DON’T need crazy gifts with “6 weeks lead time”. That’s impractical. I think what it comes down to is the happiness & security – expensive gifts can’t buy you that, but that’s why some women want them.

      I consider myself lucky, every day. My husband is healthy & happy and I know he adores me just through words and actions. Also fortunately, he appreciates that I actually ask to keep things simple. We don’t get alone time much and when he took a day off of work for our anniversary just to bop around town together, that was the best thing ever.

      Whining about gifts and how much time is spent on them? Gah. No.

      1. I didn’t take away from this that it was about “expensive” gifts. It’s about being thoughtful and listening. If someone takes the time to actually choose a gift for someone they love, it shows they care- there’s nothing about polyester lingerie that says “I care about you and I put time and effort into this gift”.

  2. Wowser. I’ve been reading this blog since before you were married so this doesn’t shock me. I know you love him. But poor Phil he just can’t win. Are you still happy though ? It’s none of my business but you do invite comments. The whole thing just makes me really sad. Really sad for Phil and you. And I don’t even know you, but I had tears in my eyes. I just can’t remember ever reading much about what he does right. EVER. Maybe because the posts about what he does wrong are so scathing. Sorry you got a crummy gift. I myself would rather have good every days then one special one. I hope you are relatively happy. If not that is hell to go through. But I have a chronic illness and my good days are measured by a whole different stick.

  3. I suppose it’s a nice explicative touch, but something about the photos of the negligees feels vaguely humiliating – for Phil. I feel bad for him. No one can ever love us ENOUGH — but if I were him, I’d feel discouraged about trying too hard, because I’d be afraid I could never get it quite right. Maybe that’s what happened to the guy who made the scrapbook.

    1. Author

      I hear you. I think we’re up to laughing about it, though I’m sure he does feel a bit wounded. The scrapbook guy is still very much alive; he’s just busy!

  4. PS Maybe I felt such sadness because you are such a good writer. This possibility just occurred to me. I’m just a bit shocked at how sad I feel about your whole relationship. Know this, good bad experiences your writing does touch people. I do love your blog and appreciate you being brave enough to share. Thank you.

    1. Author

      It is hard to make yourself vulnerable. I haven’t been vulnerable in my writing lately, which is why I haven’t enjoyed writing the blog as much, because it IS putting yourself out there, even the bad parts of you. So I appreciate that you appreciate it!

      It is true, I don’t write enough about the good. I think I should start. Because there’s a lot in the past year.

  5. I’d love if my husband got me this because I’d assume he wanted to see me in it/ he thinks I would look acceptable in it, maybe steer him in the direction of the non cheesy lingerie shop!

  6. Maybe what Phil wants for HIS anniversary present if for you to actually WEAR one of the polyesther nighties? Maybe he’s being loud and clear but YOU aren’t getting it? Just a thought.

    Happy 7th, nonetheless.

  7. I wouldn’t put a lot of thought into your gifts either. You sound cruel and bratty and spoiled. Grow up. I’m lucky in that my husband shows me that he loves me every day- in big and small ways- he doesn’t need to visit my Pinterest board or involve waiters or have a 6 week lead time on gifts once or twice anyear. i wouldnt WANT gifts that he was bullied and shamed into buying! Dear lord woman get a grip.

    1. I hear this.

      Honestly – a 6 week lead time??

      I nearly fell off my chair!!!!

      And involve waiters? How embarrassing!

      If things have gotten this bad then I suggest you BOTH stop giving gifts. Instead decide that you will go away for the weekend together and take turns in choosing where it is.

      This whole perfect gift giving thing really makes me uncomfortable.

  8. After a childhood spent watching my mother throw fits when my father always, inevitably, got the gift wrong, I swore to never do that to my husband–and by extension, my kids, who would get to witness all that drama. So we don’t give each other gifts; instead, we go out to dinner on our anniversary, talk about our wedding day, how much it all means to us, etc. No tense moments, no disappointments, no awkward measuring of love in a material object.

    So it’s not just men who dread the pressure of gift giving. :) Sorry, but I’m with Phil on this one!

  9. I totally get what you are writing :) There is no shame in feeling that anniversaries and birthdays are special. And I actually think that you guys are doing fine! It’s just normal day to day communicating/being together/learning our love languages stuff. I am very similar. I don’t care about how much the gift costs, but please put some thought in it. if the gift is a lovely dinner date, as long as I know that he thought about it….one year my man took me to a lobster hut up the coast in Massachusetts. Nothing fancy. Just sitting outside on the rocks by the water soaked in butter and lobster meat. It was lovely and he had planned it and such….it was a wonderful afternoon/evening. Another time it was a fancy 5 star restaurant and I got to throw on the Louboutin’s…..but the thought that went into either one made me feel so special on a special day. :)

  10. Oh, and also….if you don’t like Polyester, you don’t like Polyester. :) There is a ton of lovely lingerie out there that is a bit more special. I am sure a happy medium can be found that suits you and him ;) I am a big fan of the lingerie gift and I buy my own to surprise him with and love when he buys me something, but I wouldn’t love those either.

  11. When I was growing up, holidays were a very big deal. Gifts were thoughtful, well wrapped, and opened joyously. As a child, this is a wonderful way to grow up, not because of the material items, but because you felt loved and appreciated.

    However, as I got older and got engaged, I have found the polish was rubbing off of this tradition more and more every year. What used to be thoughtful gestures turned into a lot of pressure. Pressure to get people the right gift. Pressure to spend enough money, but not too much. Pressure to find something that encapsulates your feelings for somebody.

    The pressure began to outweigh everything else, to the point where now I wish we did not exchange gifts at all. I think activities (dinner and a movie, a play, a museum exhibit, whatever) are far more meaningful then the act of actually opening gifts.

  12. I knew when I read this some readers would give you a hard time. But, not me. Why …because you put yourself out there. You say what MANY women feel but would never say it outloud. I love that about you. Somehow it reminds me of the Williams James quote: “When two people meet, there are really six people present. There is each man as he sees himself, each man as the other person sees him, and each man as he really is.” And, you know what if you wrote about how fabulous your life was (example smiling Facebook couples) it would be boring. Your stories are real! Keep it up!

  13. You already know how this sounds, because you said so in your post.

    I have to weigh in with those who feel that you shit on Phil in this post and also that you sound way entitled. I guess for me, the best gift of all would be Phil’s good health, and all the rest of it? Ehh. And wear the damn negligees–if you’re lucky, they’ll be on your body for five seconds or five minutes. I think there’s a difference in being vulnerable about yourself when you blog and slashing and burning your mate. My husband is not great at gifts–if I want something special I have to tell him–but he affords us a fantastic lifestyle that I love, and we take major exotic trips (3 weeks in India coming up in Nov) that we both enjoy together. I don’t need him to perform like a trained seal on my birthday to prove his love or thoughtfulness. He’ll never be perfect, but I choose to focus on the good and I would never, ever write about him the way you just wrote about Phil. Why would I make him feel badly? I have way more respect for him to be so cruel– and also his privacy.

    I just don’t get that you are happy. But then, I’m not sure you’d be happy married to anyone but yourself. That’s not a slam, I’m serious. You want him to respond like you do. Here’s a clue: everyone’s individual, we all have our pluses and minuses. He’s not Stephanie, he can only be Phil.

    Why don’t you forget about gifts, and wrapping and all those bars you measure stuff against and give each other experiences? A great trip. A fabulous weekend. A night to remember.

    You’re lucky to have him. No, he’s not perfect. But he’s not a bad guy. You just don’t know how lucky you are.

    1. Wow, very well put Carol. I agree there’s a difference between writing to be vulnerable, then coming across as ungrateful and disrespectful.

      But above all of this, Stephanie, don’t you worry that one day your children will read posts like this one and wonder what kind of person you were to their father?

  14. My 2 c…

    My bf of 10yrs is similarly bad with gifts/events, the only piece of jewlery he picked out himself had rubber on it and the replacement turned my finger green. No, not ideal, but you know what? It’s pretty much irrelevant in the end, and at the most important times that matter.

    My Mom just died. My bf flew last minute to NY during a very important work week without missing a beat – made it to the temple before we did in the limo, ran up and held me for 10 minutes while I sobbed and collapsed in the street. Told everyone to wait until I was done, in a firm but kind voice that meant business. Never let go of my hand the entire day – 300 people in temple staring at us with pity, my Mom laying in front of us in the casket, my little nieces getting up and giving eulogies while I couldn’t, and at her grave while we each shoveled in dirt over her. He never let go. He cried and kissed my face and wrapped his arms around me and let me lean on him at the worst moment of my life, surrounded by my entire family during their worst moments of their lives. This man who forgets birthdays, gets crappy gifts, and has no idea how to plan things saved my life that day, in ways many men with a lot more money and a lot more creativity might not have done. From what I read now and then here, Phil seems to be a lot like that.

    Pick your battles.

    1. Author

      Oh honey, I am so very sorry for your profound loss. Deeply sorry and now thinking of you, glad that you have found some peace in your man. Yes, Phil is 100% that man.

    2. Courage and strength, Jess. It is during times like that when we discover all the hand-wringing and drama over nonsense like gifts, holidays, unintentional slights are beyond ridiculous. At the end of life, either our own or our loved one’s, when we look back do we want it to reflect the fact that we bitch-slapped someone for trying to do something kind or that we lived kindly? That we were ungrateful or that we lived graciously? That we hurt feelings or that we provided solace and courage?

      My mom and dad both dallied with death this year, and I tell ya, that lesson played over and over again until I got it. I now get it, and I’ll do my best to live it for the rest of my life.

  15. You’re just so. high. maintenance. It’s exhausting me, and I’m a stranger reading 1,000 words on the internet. I can’t imagine what it’s like for Phil.

    Guess what? In 16 years together, my husband and I have never celebrated our anniversary. We both look at each other 2 or 3 days after it passed and say, “Huh, did we miss our anniversary again?” and laugh.

    For Christmas, I tell my husband what I want, he tells me what he wants. For my birthday, he cooks whatever meal I ask for, for his birthday, it’s whatever he wants in another venue. (Because I don’t cook.)

    Oddly, we’ve never seen a counselor, nor needed to. We don’t agonize over our faults and flaws and neither one of us has a website detailing all the many ways we’ve failed one another.

  16. Years ago I decided that I had all of the necessities that money could buy and many of the luxuries & that if I really want something I can ask for it (or buy it myself). I suspect you’re in that same boat. Why not stop placing Phil in such a difficult position and celebrate your day by doing something that will make someone else’s life happier? I guarantee that giving will be better than receiving. My children know to ask what charity I’d like them to donate to as does my husband. Once in a while I’ll ask for a gift certificate to Amazon, but honestly, the special/creative gift game isn’t worth playing because 9x out of 10 you’ll be disappointed & he’ll be hurt. As for anniversaries, we plan an experience together, enjoy that and the fact that we’re lucky to have anniversaries.

  17. We’re married 21 years, and when I asked my husband if he knew how many years we’ve been married, he guessed 18. If I asked him again the next day, he would have come up with an entirely different number. He doesn’t remember anyone’s birth dates — not mine, not his parents’, not his sister’s, and not even those of his own children. Should something happen to me, no one will have their birthday acknowledged ever again.

    When it comes to gifts, we don’t buy each other anything. For my first Mother’s Day, I did get a pair of diamond studs, but that was the end of that, because as he puts it, “You’re not my mother.” (I could easily refute that by pointing out how I do everything for him much like a mother would, but yes — I’m not his mother.) On anniversaries and birthdays, we simply exchange cards, and usually find the time to go out to lunch or dinner together. Most of our gifting to one another took place before we had kids.

    He knows what he likes (electronics/computer components) and I know what I like (it used to be antique diamond jewelry, but I reached a saturation point a long time ago, and refer to my safe deposit box contents as “The Grand Jewels of eBay.”) So when we each want something, we get it ourselves.

    That said, I totally understand where you’re coming from; who doesn’t want to feel as important to someone else as they are to you (important enough to remember a particular day), or to feel that they really know you and demonstrate that with a gift that is clearly something you would want? In my case, my husband is clueless (although he could never go wrong at, say, Tiffany), and in my case, whatever I would buy him would never be quite right because his field is technology and he knows pretty much everything that’s out there (in a very savant kind of way).

    Btw, totally OT, but anyway: I live three miles straight north of the Americana at Manhasset. I’ve been treated like a potential shoplifter at Barney’s (followed around), and completely ignored at Brooks Brothers…probably because I don’t quite fit the mold around here. My husband was disregarded at Tiffany, and he was there to buy me an Etoile ring (which he did, although he was pissed about the attitude there). Quite honestly, I’m waiting to be thrown off the north shore for exceeding the maximum weight limit. I don’t wear makeup, and I don’t care about designer anything (although truth be told, I did when I wasn’t fat, and still can’t believe I am).

    Anyhow, it’s easy to feel undervalued sometimes, and I totally get it. Yes, you (and I) can just buy what we want ourselves, but a (pleasant!) surprise once in a while wouldn’t hurt.

  18. This reminds me of the Five Love Languages or whatever its called. Clearly many of the readers here don’t speak the same love language that you do. And clearly your husband doesn’t speak the same love language that you do. The point is, we need to learn what feels like love to our partners.

    I understand you, because like you, I like gifts. It’s not that I’m materialistic. It’s that I like the thought that goes into them. I like to feel like I matter.

    My husband does not like gifts. He likes attention and praise. He likes sex. Ha! He likes a homemade cake.

    We have learned each other’s love language and now we each make an effort to do for the other one as they like. He buys me little gifts and I am over the moon. I’m make the first move in bed, and he is over the moon.

    It doesn’t mean either one of us is a thoughtless jerk.

    It just means different things make us feel loved. Things that are deeply wired in our psyches.

  19. People are so funny about admitting they’re disappointed by their significant others gift giving. I think they fear it makes them seem ungrateful.

    I love when people say “All I want is for him to be healthy.” I’m sorry, if my husband is healthy, he’s healthy enough to buy me a good gift. If he’s not healthy, then I expect him to be focused on his health.

    The lingerie made me laugh out loud. I’ve totally been there and been disappointed, and I thought the pictures were funny. And I find it so interesting that certain women said to just accept the gift and be happy. Yes, accept the gift, tell him you’re happy he actually purchased a gift, but let him know that it’s not your style. If you don’t provide any feedback then you’re looking forward to a lifetime of shitty polyester negligees. And if you married a strong enough man, he’ll accept the feedback in stride. No harm done. In your case, maybe third times a charm?

    I like these posts because they’re actually relatable. To me at least. Who hasn’t been let down by a man’s gift giving at some point or another? or a friend or a parent? Lighten up people.

    I don’t think it’s asking too much of a spouse to provide a thoughtful (or substitute last-minute more expensive) gift a few times a year. Let’s hold our husbands to a higher standard. You ladies who say you’re happy with an “I love you” aren’t helping my cause.

    Written with a smile.

  20. oh ladies, I cannot relate. I am Phil or worse than Phil, because I’ve never made someone a handmade scrapbook. I have given my bf (now DH) birthday gifts of experiences I have never actually purchased – intro plane flight (for taking lessons), jet ski rides, a promise to buy 2 pairs of jeans and countless other things I never actually deliver on. I do make him homemade lasagna & meatballs, buy his favorite cake and invite his family over to join us. Oh well.

    My stomach SINKS when I am presented with a box and I don’t know what’s inside it. I literally hate receiving presents. I like experiences too or picking things out together. Just tell him what you want. Today we were at Macy’s, he bought me a Michael Kors bag and boom! there’s my birthday gift. I sidestepped the expensive watch (didn’t like what he picked out, the fancy Svarowski fake engagement ring while mine is being replaced)

    Tell him what you want. Maybe my DH will finally do that with me, and give me a break.

    Love you, love your writing, you’re a wonderfully honest person and DO write about the good times. Love to read about them in a fresh way.

  21. Gosh, my HB (honey bunny) is just as bad with receiving. So many unused gifts! So I just make him the stuff that he wants when he wants it. I feel fulfilled and he knows I love him. I have spent 3 years perfecting a buche de noel because he WANTS it for Christmas. Not a present, but a jam filled, genoise (sp?) cake with chocolate frosting. He also likes his coffee poured every morning. I kind of think it’s not a bad trade off. He tries hard for the holidays – sometimes he hits it out of the park, others? well lets just say I have a lot of clothes with tags still on. But he does try very hard and the effort is so enduring.

    The ONE gift he used was a subscription to Massage Envy. We both recognized that it’s like the fast food of the spa world, but he loved it just the same. He would swing by ME when not feeling well and would walk out with a well stretched back and a good disposition. The win for me was the improved attitude!

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