It started off like any other day. Dave woke up and hopped in the shower. He dried off, got dressed and poured a nice cup of coffee. Then he went to wake his wife with a kiss. Dave faced what millions of men face everyday...Crows Feet. Multiple deep valleys in a otherwise pretty face. He looked a little closer and realized that wasn't where the lines stopped. No, these lines were taking over. Pack up and head west, smooth skin of youth, wrinkles have moved in.



It was happening all over the country, men discovering their wives were aging and not just aging but showing their age. The problem was how to tell her without a lot of tears, words, and kicks. The method they tried was gifts.

Women like gifts, and keep them if someone gives it to them. Those crocheted sweaters with panda bears on them? Christmas gifts from Aunt Sis. So off to the pharmacy the men flew. And they quickly discovered that anti wrinkle cream is pretty confusing. They come in tubes, soaps, oils, injections, and capsules. Some promise instant results while others demand weeks of loyal dedication. Some were cheap, some expensive, some in English, some not. They quickly discovered wrinkles might be a bigger enemy than first thought. So a plan was born.

Eventually a type of cream is picked and the men rush to their wives with this wonderful new gift. Through the screams and yelling they realize this was not such a good idea after all. Many were lucky to escape without injury.

Stumped, a few men placed the cream in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, hoping their wives would just find the cream and start using it on their own. So there they sat, collecting dust, and not doing anything to rectify the growing lines. One wife even accused her husband of cheating, saying his mistress must have left the cream. Boy was this plan backfiring.

One husband even tried putting the cream on his wife after she went to sleep. He was sure this would work, but then she rolled over and got the cream all over the pillow which quickly turned blue. This method quickly failed because the cream would get wiped off. This plan would only create more laundry.

Scared of their peers stories, some men gave up. Wrinkles really weren't worth the horror stories they had heard. But one man just couldn't imagine living his whole life looking at his wife getting older and older. He sat watching his wife, trying to figure out his battle plan. She was twirling a necklace, shining in the sun, when it hit him. He started to think about her favorite things. Diamonds, silver, glitter; how could he have missed it!

He ran to the store as fast as his feet would take him. He found the prettiest jar he could find and then after putting his cream in it he put a big red pretty bow on it and brought it home.

The shiny glass jar was received from his wife with kisses and hugs. How wonderful! How beautiful! But what was inside? The husband didn't know, he said, only that he saw the jar and thought it was pretty, like his wife, so he bought it. His wife saw that it was anti wrinkle cream, and put it right on the bathroom counter.

She was excited every morning to play with the pretty jar, and her husband was tickled pink when, in a week, the valleys smoothed out. The best wrinkle cream, the husbands discovered, had nothing to do with the ingredients, or the country they were made in. No, the best wrinkle cream comes in a shiny, glass jar. Those were the ones the women wanted to use. And quickly after, the price for a glass jar sky rocketed. But such is the price to pay for lovely wives.