I like to think of myself as a liberated man. I cook. I like (some) musicals. I read poetry. I do laundry. I even like flowers. That doesn't mean I want any sent to me.

Earlier this week, our friends at Très Sugar ran a poll asking whether if it's okay for a woman to send her guy flowers. Every dude is different, of course, and people can do whatever they like, but for this guy -- i.e. moi -- the answer is no. Don't send me flowers. I know you mean well, and I appreciate the gesture, but getting flowers makes me uncomfortable and embarrassed.

One year not too long ago, my wife forgot our anniversary. I mean, completely. The first time ever. When I gave her the gift I'd gotten her (as I always remember to do, because I am perfect), she immediately realized her error and was mortified. It wasn't a huge deal to me, but she felt awful. The next day at work, I received a big bouquet of flowers from her as an apology. But I didn't want an apology, and I sure as heck didn't want that apology.

Simply and honestly put, it was embarrassing to get flowers at work. Not only did I never hear the end of it from my co-workers -- male and female alike -- but getting flowers from my wife made me feel like the woman in the relationship. I didn't like that feeling. At all. Male ego, old-fashioned thinking, insecurity, ingratitude -- I cop to all of it. Guess I'm not perfect after all. Sorry. Still like me?

Another reason not do it is that most guys just won't appreciate them as they are meant to be appreciated, so the thought (and money) are wasted. Again, I like flowers, but I like them when I come home and find them in a vase on the dining room table, or when I grab some on the way home for my wife. Not when they are delivered to me by some punk half my age who's fighting back a giggle because he just realized that "Carrie" is a dude, not a chick.

Thanks but no thanks. If you want to send a guy something, send him a strip-o-gram. We love those.