She may get a Dolly Parton boob job (the word “augmentation” doesn’t change what it is folks). Take four pounds of fat from Her butt and inject it into Her lips so She can look like Mick Jagger in a vacuum. Kill all the nerve endings in Her face with cattle toxin so She can always looks surprised but is completely incapable of smiling. Or get fake bake tans until your little Snooki is the color of an Oompa Loompa.
All right, all right, beyond the drastic, psycho, orange, lip and breast exploding, show business stuff, maybe She is considering a simple facelift or a tummy tuck, or permanent make up or a tattoo or to color Her hair the shade of an eggplant or a nose piercing with a fishing lure. Your response; (as so many significant others have said) “Don’t do this for me.”
Listen up buttercup, She is NOT doing it for you! And (outside of Hollywood) it’s not about vanity. She doesn’t think She is a Barbie doll to be pristine and played with at the same time. It is about Her self-image. It is about how She perceives Herself. It is about Her feeling good about Herself.
Not convinced? Still think it’s about pleasing You? Try this; go get hit by a Peterbilt tomorrow and see if it changes how She wants to look.
Tell Her you love Her just the way She is. Tell Her She is perfect. Tell Her She doesn’t need enhancements, enlargements or new curtains. But remember, just like anything else, in the end, give Her what She wants.
Federal regulations require me to set forth this disclaimer; the previous comment concerning the tractor trailer is by no means an endorsement of ignoring traffic safety laws. And no person, reading this should attempt to stand in front of or otherwise molest a large moving vehicle.