Happy Father's Day
To honor my actual father on the blessed day, I pitched in with Jenny to get him a reeeeeaaaal nice pair of Reef sandals.
Dad deemed this an appropriate gift, since I was the reason his $4 Old Navy flip-flops broke in Hawaii two years ago. I sprung a surprise hike on him so he was not prepared with the right footwear and then the strap of the flip-flop busted and he had to limp along on the jungle floor with a sideways flip-flop while the rest of us laughed mercilessly. That's how he tells it, anyway. (Except I'm really laughing now thinking about the sideways flip-flop so maybe that is how it actually happened. Who knows.) Now Dad is prepared, footwise, for his next Hawaiian getaway.
For GH, the soon-to-be father, I gave him the go-ahead to replace the car stereo that was stolen this year. (Our apartment complex is just a lovely place on so many levels, really.) I think he'd given up hope on ever having music in his car again. Also I bought this:
For anyone lucky enough not to recognize this symbol, it's from Lost. And no, just because that show ended this year do not suppose for one moment that GH will ever waver in his devotion to it. Ever. You go ask Buffy the Vampire Slayer if he has ever forgotten to send her a Christmas card. Let's hope this bib tides him over if the Lost poster should ever mysteriously disappears one day . . .
You remember the Lost poster, right? If you don't, then this is what's been hanging on our bedroom wall since we got married:
Yep. The last thing I saw before falling asleep every night was Benjamin Linus's face. And GH wonders why I have bad dreams. (And no, having Sayid's handsome face up there as well did not help the situation as much as you might think it would--especially not during the last few episodes where he went all Ev** Zo**** on me.) I did get a poster frame for the thing, though. Standards, people.
I should report that since completing our Exodus from the Smokers we haven't bothered putting anything back up on the walls. This bodes well for my master plan. Jack Bauer should maybe start watching his back.
I'm Steph, a librarian and mom of 3 (not sure how that happened). Let's chat books, food, Sumptuous Literary Adaptations, poop, knitting and maybe some crazy Mormon Feminism.
7 comments:
Since I moved into Jason's apartment, rather than us moving somewhere together initially, there's always been this minor tension regarding some of Jason's things - like, for instance, the Simpsons dartboard and the Simpsons clock where Homer is sloshing a mug of beer. Now that we're moving to the fairy-tale house, I may be required to institute some standards.
I don't think the dartboard and clock will be making an appearance on a wall of the fairy-tale house. Just sayin'.
This is exactly what the garage is for. Or, should you be lucky enough to have one, the office. My husband thinks all his crummy (as in, really poor quality) surf posters are going in the guest bedroom. HA! HA! HA! HA!
That bib is great, but I think I would have a hard time with that poster in our bedroom.
And let me thank you again for the Reefs. They are great. Although the weather in Alaska this summer so far has not been conducive to flip flop wear.
And yes, you did laugh mercilessly at my misfortune.
Just hope your child doesn't get lost somewhere wearing that bib. You'd look like a real cool mom...
You inspired me to get a pair of Reef sandals for my very own self. The only problem is that I've worn Chacos every day for 3 weeks and now I'll have competing tan lines.
You are a wonderful wife, allowing that poster to grace the wall of your bedroom. For any amount of time.
Post a Comment