Apparently there is some sort of Man Law that states that you cannot call a cheap GPS a dual anniversary and Father's Day gift. Darn the luck, that means I'm still on the hunt for a Father's Day gift for Mr. Husband. This may very well be the last year I'm responsible for picking something out, so I suppose I better make it good. He has a lifetime of ties and trinkets to look forward to, after all.

In my quest for the perfect gift idea, I realized that various companies have been emailing me some craptastic Father's Day suggestions. Babies 'R Us, I'm talking to you. This email?

RIDICULOUS. Telling me to buy my husband a diaper bag for Father's Day HAS GOT to be some sort of twisted joke. Even if he were to like such a gift (he wouldn't), that would be against all the laws of what is right and good. Men do not need special diaper bags. Period.

Just in case there are any men many reading this, allow me to make the whole "manly" diaper bag thing crystal clear. Real men suck it up and carry whatever their baby mama buys. If that means you are stuck carrying a pretty princess diaper bag for several months, just shut your trap and do it. I don't care if carrying that pretty princess diaper bag makes you nauseous. Imagine carrying a real live human being right next to your kidneys for nearly ten months, squeezing it out of a tiny little hole, and THEN we can talk about nauseous. You owe your baby mama the right to buy whatever the heck diaper bag she wants. Carry it and shut your trap.

While you're at it, men, make it a mission to see if you can change more diapers than your baby mama. I dare you.

The day after Babies 'R Us assaulted my sensibilities, Bath and Body Works joined in the Mess with Her Head Party with this offer:

Um, NO. If I were to buy Mr. Husband a bunch of froo-froo soapy things for Father's Day, I'd be getting bricks in my stocking this Christmas (yes, twits, that was an intentional nod to you). Now that I think about it, I can't think of a single Dad that I know who would be overjoyed to find that his wife and kids thought he needed smelly stuff for Father's Day. Ponder for a moment the image of the guy you think would appreciate the gift of goop. I'll just leave that one hanging.

The WORST of the email Father's Day offers that I have received is one that I deleted before it could completely enter my conscious. I swear on the biggest bag of gummy worms, I seriously received an email offering me a great deal on Allure Magazine for Father's Day. Um, yeah. Mr. Husband wouldn't just be mad, I think buying him Allure for Father's Day would be all the judge would need to hear for him to declare the trial a case of justifiable homicide.

I think I'll just buy Mr. Husband this little thing. I'm sure he'll LOVE it.

(C'mon, you HAD to know it was about time I posted another freaky doll.)