I made an appointment with a local tattooista. I planned on something subtle: "TA-2." The tattoo guy didn't get it.
On the morning of my birthday, wife thought I was going to the urologist ("dick doc"), but I actually went to a hair salon for a cranial redecoration.
In lieu of tattoo, I settled for a shaven head and a trimmed beard. I've been married since 1971, but my wife had never seen my cheeks before. Not those, cheeks, anyway. I'm not sure if I'll keep the new look, but I do like it. (DAMN -- my nose looks huge and I never realized my head was so thick.)
Shortly after my trim, I was due to rendezvous with my bride at the snack bar at Costco. She was already on the line. I got behind her. I bumped my cart into her cart. She turned around and SCREAMED.
UPDATE: A few weeks later, I temporarily dyed the beard dark brown, like it was years earlier. This time Marilyn screamed again -- and ran away.