A Husband Worth His Weight…in Carats

husband in the form of a diamond
Oh darling, you shouldn’t have…taken so long to croak

I get some pretty quirky stuff in my inbox on a daily basis (now, there’s a sentence that would’ve needed some explaining a mere 20 years ago), but today’s post from Café Mom is on course to set a record. It read, “When Her Husband Dies, She Plans to Turn Him into Jewelry.” Apparently, she told her husband (who hasn’t kicked the bucket yet) that she planned on having him made into a diamond after he died. His response? “How much is that going to cost?” What do you care, Tightwad Timmy? You’ll be dead. Besides, she’ll have that nice life insurance policy payout and your social security check to cover it. With plenty, I’m sure, left over to invite the buffed pool guy to join her in Aruba.

This couldn’t possibly be true, I thought. It ranks up there with Walt Disney cryogenically freezing his head, or Dale Evans stuffing her horse, Trigger. (Or was it a Roy Rogers she stuffed? I can’t remember.) So just for grins I googled “jewelry made out of cremation ashes” and sure enough countless websites popped up that educate you on the wonders of turning your dearly departed into a lovely ankle bracelet (or whatever).

Here’s how it works. Since we’re carbon-based forms, that carbon turns to a pile of ash when we’re cremated. From there that ash can be pressed into jewelry the same way cubic zirconium diamonds, and even precious metals, are made. I kid you not.

So Many Options, But Only One Husband

Husband never listens
He never looked more studly

Okay, is it just me, or does anyone else see the irony in this? For example, the woman whose husband would never buy her a diamond when they were married will now get one when she compresses his cheap-ass corpse into two-plus carats. Or better yet, she could have him made into diamond earrings, thus allowing her to finally be able to boast to her a friends, “Yes, bitches, I’m married to a real stud.”

And then there’s the inescapable urge to compare the hardness of the diamond to the hardness of one’s husband when he was alive. Again, giving the widow bragging rights that would liven up any Bunco party. “I tell you ladies, Harry hasn’t been this hard since we snuck under the stage at a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert in 1973 during the Free Bird encore. Back then he could last the entire long version. Hell, he was the long version, if you know what I mean. Now he looks lovely as the centerpiece of my thumb ring. Bless his heart.”

I Prefer a Handy Husband

Not one to be impressed by expensive jewelry, I say why stop there? If you can make jewelry out of carbon ash, why not make other things that are much more practical? For example, my old house needs new plumbing. If I outlasted a husband I think I’d have him ground into some fashionable bathroom fixtures. That way I could say, “Yes my hubby is still swingin’ some major pipe.” No need to mention that he’s dead and sports a Pfister tattoo.

husband is excited!
NOW this is what happens when my husband gets excited

Or just cut to the chase. Have him made into a vibrator. All those years of trying to explain female anatomy to him will finally pay off in the most poetic way. And again, I don’t mean to belabor the point, but just think how everyone in your Zumba class will revere you when you reveal over post-class lattes, “I have to say, my Chester satisfies me every time. He’s like the Energizer Bunny.” Well, yes, that’s because now he’s actually powered by the Energizer Bunny. Details. After a certain age we hate them, so we just leave them out.

The more I think about it, I guess it’s not so weird to have your husband transformed into something else after he dies. Whatever that may be. Just remember, though, turnabout is fair play, so unless you want to spend eternity as a TV tray or crystal handled screwdriver, you might want to discuss your post mortem plans with your husband (or kids) first.


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Stacy Dymalski is the host of the hilarious TV talk show “Mother Bloggers” on FirstRun.tv. She’s also an award winning keynote speaker and stand-up comic who gave up the glamorous life of coach travel, smokey comedy clubs, and heckling drunks for the glamourous life of raising kids (who happen to be bigger hecklers than the drunks). This blog is her new stage.

For more of Stacy’s comedy check out her book Confessions of a Band Geek Mom available in bookstores and on Amazon in paperback and Kindle.