A couple of days later though my body and the bit of my brain attached to my heart had recovered sufficiently enough for me to change my mind and before you could say "silly old fool" the cash was handed over and the gift wrapped.
There was a card too. And without blowing my own trumpet, I have to say the little poem I wrote to the woman I adore was pretty good - I am a long time exponent of the written word after all - and private, so don't ask.
Now, I know full well there will be a certain number among you reading this, mostly blokes, who will be looking for a bucket to be ill in about now. All I'll say is forget what The Boys might think and give it a go sometime, see how you get on. And let me know.
I'm looking for less physical work and if my advice was any good "relationship counsellor" might be just the ticket.
Anyway.
The big day arrives and Mrs P is gobsmacked by A, the card; B, the poem and C, the two little gifts inside the wrapping.
Hang on a minute. Two little gifts? I'm sure I only bought one.
By now I'm hovering close by as she takes a look at the gift I am positive I bought. A cute little coloured vase.
I grab the second item, a tube of natural hand cream, before she's had a chance to look at it too closely.
Stuck to one side is a sticker which says "Free sample". Obviously the lady in the shop has plonked it in the pot while I wasn't looking and then covered the whole thing with bubble wrap. I had no idea it was there.
Trying to act casually while Mrs P carries on with her vase inspection I turn away and quickly rip off the "free sample" sticker.
Just in time too it seems.
No sooner is the sticky bit of paper screwed up and safely tucked away in my pocket. She is waxing lyrical about the natural properties of the hand cream and how thoughtful I was to have spent the time searching for such a special gift.
I am somewhat embarrassed to say I stayed tight-lipped about the deception, electing instead to bask in the glow of her affection.
Later we had a nice lunch and went for a walk in the forest.
As we came back to the car park a short while later, we came across a mountain biker who was getting changed into his riding gear.
Depending on how you look at it, our timing (and his) was spot on and we emerged just round the corner in time to see his bare bum staring back at us.
We all laughed. And I told Mrs P this was another anniversary gift I had arranged for her.
She replied with a smile.
"I'm just pleased this one doesn't have a free sample sticker across it."
• Kevin Page is a teller of tall tales with a firm belief too much serious news gives you frown lines. Feel free to share stories to editor@northernadvocate.co.nz (Kevin Page in subject field).