This morning, when The Husband came looking for our ritual "leaving-for-work" kiss, he found me at my computer, staring longingly at a picture and product description of the Craftsman Rear Mount Tiller.
I heard him snicker. He's caught me staring at this same picture for about four years now. I glanced at him over my shoulder. "They're on sale!"
"Um-hmmmm," he said, bending down for the smooch.
"'No Payments, No Interest' for a year," I told him.
"Um-hmmmm," he said again as he turned to leave the room. He wasn't worried; he thinks I'm all talk and no action.
"You know, other women would be wishing for jewelry, or furs, or...."
"Yeah, yeah. 'Wish in one hand....'"
It drives me crazy when he says that thing to me, as the part that he left unsaid goes, "...and s*it in the other, and see which hand fills up faster."
Hmph.
"I'LL HAVE THE TRUCK FRIDAY," I called, reminding him that we are supposed to swap vehicles at the end of this week when I'm scheduled to pick up our grandson. (The car seat is strapped in the back seat of The Husband's truck, and it's easier to swap vehicles than to move the car seat.) "I could bring home a Craftsman Rear Mount Tiller in a truck!"
"Um-hmmmm," he said, closing the front door behind him.
Hmph.
I may just show him a thing or two, come Friday.
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