Crappy Birthday For Me, Crappy Birthday For Me.....

It's my soon-to-be ex-wife's birthday on Saturday - and the mind games have started already.
We have the same exchanges each year and each year I end up in the doghouse. The chat in the run-up to B Day always goes something like this.
Pither: "What would you like for your birthday?"
STBEW: "Nothing, thanks."
Pither: "No, seriously, come on, is there anything you'd really like - I've got £5 and I'm prepared to spend the lot."
STBEW: "Honestly, I don't want anything. We've got enough trinkets and rubbish to fill two houses. It would just be a waste of money."
Pither: "It's not the money. It's the sentiment and the care behind the gift which counts.
STBEW: "Bollocks!!"
Pither: "I know. I read it in Woman's Own once. Still, are you sure you don't want anything?"
STBEW: "Absolutely positive. We can't afford presents, anyway."

The great day arrives and, depending on what I interpreted the current Mrs Pither's words to mean, one of two things happens.
SCENARIO 1 (following Pither's rash decision to interpret STBEW's words according to the Oxford English Dictionary):
STBEW's Poisonous Girlfriend: "So, what did Reg get you for your birthday?"
STBEW (pulling her "..and he's a wife-beater as well, you know" face): "Nothing."
Poisonous Girlfriend: "Nothing!!! I don't believe it. Nothing at all? Good God, that's awful."
STBEW: "I know. I'm used to it though. Still, my mum bought me some new Marigolds so I'm not too badly off."
Poisonous Girlfriend: "Aw, you poor lamb. Come here, honey, let me give you a hug. He's an awful man. He doesn't deserve you."
STBEW: "I know (sniff). I just carry on and take each day as it comes (sniff). Don't worry about me (sniff). I'll be all right (sniff). Honestly, I don't really feel like killing myself. I just haven't got the energy."

SCENARIO 2 (following Pither's decision to adopt The Double Mexican ruse and take the word "nothing" to mean, in Womanspeak, "something, or else!":
Pither (clutching beautifully wrapped present): "Happy birthday, honey. I hope you like it."
STBEW: "What's that?"
Pither: "It's your birthday present."
STBEW: "What!!!! I don't believe it!!"
Pither: "What's the matter?"
STBEW: "Do you ever, EVER listen to a blind word I say?"
Pither: "Yes dear, but......"
STBEW: "This is just typical of you. We can't afford to waste money on silly trinkets."
Pither: "But..........."
STBEW: "I might as well talk to the wall. I distinctly remember telling you I didn't want anything and what do you do? Are you deaf, or stupid or both?"
Pither: "But..........."
STBEW: "Well, you can just take it right back to wherever you got it from! Go on."
THEN, (having reached for her mobile to call Poisonous Friend): "You'll never guess what he's gone and done now?"
Poisonous Friend: "Go on, surprise me. You should leave him, you know."

This year, having been given the "nothing" answer, I decided to hedge my bets and I came up with a cunning plan. I didn't buy a present but, instead, I secretly rang round all our friends and invited them over to Pither Towers on Saturday to celebrate the birthday. I told them to bring a bottle and I thought I could run to a few packets of Twiglets and a sausage roll without bringing on the Wrath of Khan! Sadly, STBEW got wind of the supposedly secret party and told me she wasn't interested. "We can't afford the Twiglets and I'll only have loads of cleaning up to do the following day," she said - despite the fact that STBEW last cleaned up about four years ago and it is Pither who has that obsessive cleanliness disorder thingy.
So, the party is off and at the moment I'm working on Plan B. All I can think of is to ask everyone down to the local pub to raise a glass to Mrs P. It will involve no extra expense, there will be no cleaning up after, there will be no outlay from the Pither coffers on a present but some of our chums will doubtless buy her something and so her materialism will be satiated. I've got to win this time. Please.
Birthday dramas can, in the meantime, go to Grantham.