Anytime more then six months ago…Mrs. eSquared: [coming through the door with lots of bags from the mall] “Hi babe…”
Me: [although initially panicked, I realize Mrs. E2 only borrows clothes from the shops. She’ll return them all within three weeks, and check-out another bunch] “Hey pal. Whatchagotthere?
Mrs. E2: “Oh… a little of this, and a little of that.”
Me: [turning back to the Xbox game I currently SUCK at] “Ah, that’s cool. DIE YOU S.O.B.”
About 15 minutes pass…
Mrs. E2 [modeling her latest black turtle-neck, or black slacks] “Well… what do you think?
Me: [pausing the hopelessness that is the game I’m playing] “Oh… nice.”
Mrs. E2: [her face falling into a frown] “You hate it.”
Me: [in my high and defensive Mrs. E2 has learned not to trust] “No… they’re fine… really.”
We spend the next ten minutes convincing her that she shouldn’t take the slacks back… which she takes back anyway in a couple of weeks.
Now… let’s turn the tables a bit.
Anytime more then six months ago…
Me: [coming through the door with a bag from the mall] “Hi babe…”
Mrs. eSquared: [panicked] “Hey pal. Whatchagotthere?
Me: “Oh… a little of this, and a little of that.”
Mrs. eSquared: [turning back to the book she is currently studying] “Hummm.”
Me: [taking a moment to inhale the sweet smell of new electronic equipment as I open the box - tittering with excitement] “Well… what do you think?
Mrs. eSquared: [applying the memorized equations and algorithms she learned to calculate an item’s cost by the size and color of the box ] “Oh… nice.”
Me: [my face falling into a frown] “You hate it.”
Mrs. eSquared: [transparent in her apathy] “No… they’re fine… really.”
She spends the next ten minutes convincing me that I should take the thing back.
… and the tables come full circle.
Anytime in the last six months…
Mrs. eSquared: [coming through the door with lots of bags from the mall] “Hi babe…”
Me: [although initially panicked, I realize Mrs. E2 only borrows clothes from the shops. She’ll return them all within three weeks, and check-out another bunch] “Hey pal. Whatchagotthere?
Mrs. E2: “Oh… a little of this, and a little of that.”
Me: [turning back to the Xbox game I currently SUCK at] “Ah, that’s cool. DIE YOU S.O.B.”
About 15 minutes pass…
Mrs. E2 [parading the baby clothes she just got] “Well… what do you think?
Me: [pausing the hopelessness that is the game I’m playing, and growing dizzy looking at all the little suits, oneziez, shorts, pants, shirts and hats (yes, hats) arranged on the table] “Oh… that one has a cute carrot on it… nice.”
Mrs. E2: [her face falling into a frown] “You hate them.”
Me: [in my high and defensive Mrs. E2 has learned not to trust] “No… they’re fine… really.”
We spend the next ten minutes convincing her that we will never need to wash baby clothes. We’ll simply use them once, and throw them out. We’ve run out of room to store them… now, we’ve filled garbage sacks (clean ones) with all the clothes our egglet has.
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