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Four more years...

I was excited to have remembered my own 4th wedding anniversary this past week, especially as I have a habit of forgetting such things (sorry mum). That said, I barely made it in time with a celebratory laurel tree, thanks to a very lovely lady at Covent Garden Flowers, for my gorgeous and under appreciated wife. She, on the other hand remembered well in advance and got me what she thought was the most appropriate gift imaginable. 

At this point I should probably reference Wikipedia's anniversaries page, at which I found out that I was in the the correct customary area in my choice of gifts. Year 4 in the UK is traditionally fruit and flowers, and my laurel tree was in flower - see the handily appended table below.
YearU.S.U.K.
1stPaper
2ndCotton
3rdLeather
4thLinen, silkFruit and flowers
However, she on the other hand had missed her mark. 
"One is paper," she said authoritatively, "whereas two is something like cloth, or crinoline, and three is probably tin." I began to doubt her confidence.
"So, number four?" I asked.
She paused, dramatically, before jumping up excitedly with my gift, tears of laughter already visible in her eyes...


"Nazis!" 

P.S. As post scripts go, I hope this is the least necessary one imaginable. I am not (and I should also point out, my wife is definitely not), nor ever have been, nor ever will be a member of the NSDAP or a supporter of any ideology thereby espoused. I am also against eugenics, anti-Semitism, a secret police force or state, and don't even like the name Ignatius (from which is derived the party pseudonym, an odd but eminently provable fact). This entire post is the fruit of a misbegotten and unfortunately long-standing joke, long since lacking in any humour except that which its own ridiculousness bestows upon itself. However, Martin Davidson's book is fascinating, and well worth the read, even if only because Philip Kerr has a quote on the back.
Thank you in advance for understanding and lack of prejudice.
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