Garden Owl Update

Today I am grateful for a garden owl update.  If you’re following along you will remember that I wrote a piece about how Himself hung a picture of a garden owl on my towel rack because he wanted one and I wouldn’t buy it.  Mean me!

 

Many of you suggested I purchase it for him for Father’s Day or whatever.  Some were very sweet and thought I should probably get it for him, others thought I was a cheap SOB and should stick a crowbar in my wallet.  Both true.  I was seriously considering buying it.

 

Then I got a HUGE check from Haband, the company where I had ordered something from maybe a year ago, because I’m their “bestist, preferredist, specialist” customer.  They must really be digging the bottom of the barrel regarding special.  Or maybe it’s a different kind of “special” they are talking about.  In any event I like being special so it was working for me.

 

“Hey!  Look what I got from Haband,” I said to Himself.  “I’m their “specialist” customer and they sent me a check for five bucks.”

 

“Wow!  What should we buy?” he got all excited.

 

“I was thinking of getting the garden owl that you’ve been bugging me about.”  I waited for him to jump for joy, scream and shout, maybe do a cartwheel or two.  Okay, not the last part because he can’t even get down there to pick up crap he’s dropped on the floor, but I expected excitement of some sort.  Nope.  He laughed.  Laughed right at me!

 

“I don’t want that stupid owl,” he said, still laughing.  What?  You bug me for days, hang the brochure on my towel rack and tell me how cute it would be on our patio and now you don’t want it?

 

“What are you talking about?”  Now I was pissed.  “You said you wanted the stupid thing and now you don’t?  What’s up with that?”  And if you don’t stop laughing at me I have the perfect spot for this stupid check!

 

“I never really wanted it.  I just wanted to annoy you with the brochure.  You were supposed to take it down but instead you left it hanging there.  You were supposed to throw it away. Then I’d pull it out of the trash and hide it in your book.  Then you’d throw it away and I’d put it under your pillow.  Then you’d throw it away again and I’d put it in your gym bag. . .”  I stopped him before I choked him.  It was a game?  Might have told me.

 

“So you don’t want the stupid owl, even though Haband is “giving” me five bucks towards it?” I asked.  This guy takes the cake!

 

“Nope.  It’s stupid.”  Wow.  A few days later the owl brochure was not on the towel rack.  Good.  We’re all done with this nonsense, I thought.  Then I opened my book.  Yup.  Silly me.  Now that the game is officially afoot. . .and I know it’s a game, duh. . .I wonder where that brochure will turn up next?  Won’t he be surprised when I buy the damned garden owl and it lands on our patio. . .or. . .bend over just once and I’ll shove it where the sun don’t shine!

(If you missed the story about the owl go to http://heartprintsdotcom.wordpress.com)

 

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