I broke tradition this year and
bought Kay a birthday gift. I had guilted myself into a corner, by talking to
several husbands near my age who said they always get their wives something. Acted
like I was nuts for asking the question. What a bunch of losers.
Kay and
I got past the gift giving thing, when I kept getting her stuff she didn’t
want, and she kept getting me stuff I could use, but didn’t want to. So, we
agreed to just stop the silliness. Up until this year when my friends persuaded
me that I was an old goat.
Clothes,
jewelry, perfume, and other womanly stuff was not even on my radar. No, I
decided to shop at Hobby Lobby, the place where Kay gets most of her art and craft
supplies. The girl paints, turns small rocks into birds, and dogs, makes
jewelry… and a bunch of other stuff that appeals to me not in the least.
So I was
off to Hobby Lobby. I call it Lobby
Lobby, ‘cause I like to mess with words. I even occasionally pronounce the “w”
in sword, strictly out of sympathy. The letter has been forever neglected in
that word. Believe me, I know how it feels when people talk like you’re not
even there.
So,
where was I? Right, Lobby Lobby. I don’t know if you realize this, but the
parking lot at Lobby Lobby is the hottest place in the county for a person to
sit in his car and wait for his wife. I’ve
had women stop by my parked car and threaten to dial 911. “Hello, I need to
report that a wife has left her husband in the parking lot of Hobby Lobby. He
says he’s been sitting in this heat for an hour. I think the heat has gotten to
him, because he keeps referring to this place as ‘Lobby Lobby.’”
Well,
this time there was no waiting in the car. Kay’s gift was not going to come
walking out and jump into the car. If they had a system like HEB, I could just
call in and say, “I need you to pick out something for my arts and craft wife.
Nothing over $20. You can find me with my engine running by the entrance at
2:00. I’ll be in a red sweatband.”
Hobby
Lobby has yet to see the need for phone-in orders. So I had to march my surly buns into the
establishment, where I got a pleasant “Hello!” at the door. I didn’t let it
slow me down, because I was going to be in and out. Unfortunately, I did stop
and handle a couple of small metal buckets on my way back to the craft stuff. Little buckets are so much more fascinating
than big buckets. I then stopped and
read some of the small wall signs on display. Sweet stuff like “Choose Kindness” – “May your journey always
lead you home” and “Rawr Rawr Dinosaur!” Again with the “w.” There was a
drawing of a brontosaurs in the middle of the sign, and I was quite taken aback
by the weirdness of it.
Eventually,
I made it to the 82 rows of craft supplies. I didn’t know the purpose of 80
percent of the stuff. As hard as it is to believe, I have no artistic vision. I’m
more into screwdrivers and pliers.
After 40
minutes I decided to vacate the massive arts and crafts area and head for a
place where stuff is already made. They’ve got shelving and bookcases and
cubby-holes with baskets in ‘em. None of it was doing it for me. Just as I was
about to return to the “Rawr Rawr” sign, I saw ‘em. Jigsaw puzzles. It was just
the other day that Kay said how much she wanted a jigsaw puzzle. I remembered
it because I always thought she hated jigsaw puzzles. What a gift! Not the
puzzle, just the fact I found something. I settled on a 1000 piece puzzle. Had
I gotten the 2000 piece, she would’ve taken up the entire dining room table
working on it. I grabbed a scene with a house on a hill with a pasture and barn
in the background. A few cows, a flower garden and wooden fence. A real sappy
scene.
I put a
card and the wrapped puzzle next to her recliner. She was excited. Kay really
likes me getting her something… until she sees what it is. The wrapped box was
beautiful. Had a ribbon and three little rocks stuck to it. I can glue rocks, I
just can’t make ‘em look like anything but what they are. Kay anxiously opened
the gift, smiled big and said, “Wow, a puzzle.” Then she gave me a big smacker.
It was while we were eating out that I said, “I thought you liked jigsaw
puzzles.”
She said, “No, that must’ve been
your first wife.” Kay is such a hoot. It’s weird ‘cause I distinctly remember
her mentioning jig saw puzzles earlier in the week. She said, “That was
Virginia when we were at the Cracker Barrel last Thursday. I’m proud that you
were even listening.”
I told
her she could give Virginia the puzzle with my blessing. She said, “No, you’re
going to help me put this thing together.” –
No way! That’s what I said. “No way!” Then I told her that she didn’t
have to reciprocate and get me something for my birthday, if I didn’t have to
help with the puzzle.
“It’s
too late for that,” she said. “I already ordered you something on line.”
D’oh!
That’s what I said, “D’oh!” -- Next
time.
end
Mark can be contacted at hayter.mark@gmail.com.
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