It was our 10th anniversary and I planned this beautiful celebration. First we'd meet for dinner at Michelangelo's - both having to work earlier - and then we would drive home separately for a surprise party with all our friends that I didn't tell my husband about.

Everything was going perfect at first; I arrived to dinner a little early, like five fifty, while we agreed to met at six. Finally the clock struck six and he was no where to be seen; six fifteen, I began to worry if he had an accident; six thirty, I called his cell and no answer. I really began to fret until his cell was answered. It was his secretary who told me that he left an hour ago to play mud football with a few friends. When I told her it was our anniversary, she was speechless. We hung up at around seven and I couldn't believe him. 'He's playing a stupid football game on our anniversary!' By seven thirty, I completely gave up on the mere chance that he was coming and had a quiet dinner by myself, fuming about my revenge.

When I sullenly arrived home, I forgot about the surprise. Tons of people jumped from the furniture yelling 'Surprise!'� as I just shook my head, drenched from the rain which he was playing in. I noticed that a few of his college buddies didn't show and I knew they must be his playmates.

The guests quietly went home, giving me pity glances as they drove away. My revenge plan wasn't ready yet but my first act as the vengeful wife was to lock hubby out of the house. Sticking chairs under all the door knobs, along with their own locks, and locking the windows, there's no way he could get in. 'He likes the rain that much, let him sleep in it!' was my thinking.

Midnight rolled around, as he came banging on the front door. I opened it slightly, the chain lock still in place. He had no idea what was going on so I told him. He completely forgot about dinner. I then mentioned the party and how humiliated I was. He began to plead, saying he was sorry, but after a night of humiliation, I was going to require more than a few 'Sorrys' than that. Closing the door, fixing the chair, I went to bed scheming.

The next morning, I woke up to a delivery man who arrived with flowers, tulips and an apology card. I smiled, threw them to the ground and smashed the living daylights out of them. The man awkwardly smiled and walked away as I waved goodbye as if nothing was wrong.

The whole day continued like that; gifts after gifts ended broken on the porch, a barber shop quartet received a door slam and the adorable puppy he sent me, I gave to the neighbor girl who was mourning over the loss of her own dog.

That night, my dear husband was on the doorstep. He looked pitiful. Swollen puffy eyes, a runny red nose, muddy suit, dirt caked on his face and I couldn't help not to laugh. He sneezed and coughed and I strangely felt contented. Him being sick was all the revenge I needed so I let him stay on the couch a few days before he could come upstairs. Next time, he won't forget our anniversary.

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