So, how to begin the Half-Life of Shoes? What better way than to tell you how Mrs. Shoes took the news that I was starting a blog. I broke it to her in an email reply saying "p.s. I think I’m going to start a blog. I figure I need to because my wife never wants to hear my stories or rants so I should just put them out there for the general public." After a small back-and-forth about how it's not that she doesn't enjoy my stories and rants, she just prefers the condensed versions and not the 25-page dissertations (is how I believe she put it), I brought up the great line by Brad Pitt in 'Mr. & Mrs. Smith': "Don't get me wrong, I love my wife. But there are times...." (insert strangling gesture). Of course she can toss 'em right back at me and this is the reply I got from her (in italics below), mind you coming from someone who is apparently against longer stories.
Mrs. Shoes: "I think it’s mutual. . .let’s take for instance, the 15 minutes I spent looking for my tweezers this morning. Knew I put them in my make up case, turned the thing upside down and emptied it. . .twice. But I knew it was early and I was pre-coffee (aka incoherent and barely lucid) so I put everything back in the case to dump it out again (third time)–alas, nothing. Checked both of my drawers, the cupboard on my side, the floor, the vanity counter top, your drawers, and the medicine cabinet – all to no avail. But wait, my top drawer was open when I got home yesterday, and I distinctly remember actually sliding it closed before leaving for work yesterday. Hmm. .. either Abby [the cat] has decided to pluck her whiskers or hubby borrowed said missing tweezer, or I have finally lost my mind – all equally possible. Needless to say, the Metra does not care about my tweezer tragedy and maintains a tight schedule, therefore I must abandon my search. I miss the 6:28 (am walking down the street as it rolls in) but manage to support the local economy at Starbucks and get a steaming cup of joe (plus yummy orange flavor and whip) just as the 6:36 rolls in (thanks to a new and currently inept Starbucks employee who didn’t add the shot of espresso/coffee to my first mocha and therefore took 7 minutes to make a cup of coffee that should have taken only 2 minutes).
But I have left out one vitally important piece of the story. As I go to kiss my beloved husband before bolting for the train (and coffee), to what do my wondering eyes appear?? I’m glad you asked. .. . on his nightstand, sparkling in the light of his ipod clock/radio thing (sparkling as if to mock me). . . were the tweezers. . .
Mrs. Shoes: "I think it’s mutual. . .let’s take for instance, the 15 minutes I spent looking for my tweezers this morning. Knew I put them in my make up case, turned the thing upside down and emptied it. . .twice. But I knew it was early and I was pre-coffee (aka incoherent and barely lucid) so I put everything back in the case to dump it out again (third time)–alas, nothing. Checked both of my drawers, the cupboard on my side, the floor, the vanity counter top, your drawers, and the medicine cabinet – all to no avail. But wait, my top drawer was open when I got home yesterday, and I distinctly remember actually sliding it closed before leaving for work yesterday. Hmm. .. either Abby [the cat] has decided to pluck her whiskers or hubby borrowed said missing tweezer, or I have finally lost my mind – all equally possible. Needless to say, the Metra does not care about my tweezer tragedy and maintains a tight schedule, therefore I must abandon my search. I miss the 6:28 (am walking down the street as it rolls in) but manage to support the local economy at Starbucks and get a steaming cup of joe (plus yummy orange flavor and whip) just as the 6:36 rolls in (thanks to a new and currently inept Starbucks employee who didn’t add the shot of espresso/coffee to my first mocha and therefore took 7 minutes to make a cup of coffee that should have taken only 2 minutes).
But I have left out one vitally important piece of the story. As I go to kiss my beloved husband before bolting for the train (and coffee), to what do my wondering eyes appear?? I’m glad you asked. .. . on his nightstand, sparkling in the light of his ipod clock/radio thing (sparkling as if to mock me). . . were the tweezers. . .
Can I get an AMEN!?! or more accurately a touche'? Now that's what story-telling is all about!! Two paragraphs to say "Honey, did you take my f'in tweezers?"and even a cup of joe thrown in for good measure. Ahhhhh, I love my wife. (But there are times....)
4 comments:
great stuff, was amused by the missing tweezers story...
Brian C.
Uh . . . what were you tweezing in bed? You know what? Don't tell me.
- Wieland
uhhhh....nothing. (insert shifty-eyes) I was just making sure they still tweezed. I suppose I should have noted somewhere in there that they were being used for my toes -- still kind gross though, huh? I hate feet! All feet!
You see, tweezers and I have a long history and well, I could never keep track of mine so I just purchased 4 additional pairs and now I have no excuse for not having some.
You should buy here a bunch for Christmas or B-day or whatever comes up soonest and wrap them all individually. It would be funny. You can never have too many pairs of tweezers!
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