It’s Howdy Doofus Time

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I was reading Jennifer’s post yesterday about Mother’s Day presents, thinking to myself, “At least this year, bozo knows what to get me, cause I flat out told him in the car last week.” If only it were that easy, right?  Are these things ever that easy? Hardly Never.

As we are driving to Disney, I am foaming at the mouth to get to Epcot.  Epcot has Wee Britain (please tell me I’m not the only AD fan?!) in it.  I’m an Anglophile.  I obsess over Wee Britain.  This is a given.  I’ve been fantasizing over the new Lulu Guinness I am going to get myself.  When I was at Epcot two years ago I discovered they carried the whole line.  And, me likey!!  Buying one at Epcot saves me from frantically doing the math  (100 pounds now about 175 dollars + the tariff tax of about 35% = I’ll be buggered & fanny!! look it up if you aren’t British!) the Harrods website would require of me. 

Last Monday I arrived at Wee Britain precisely 21 seconds after it opened.  I finally decided to tell Puppy we were there to get me a new purse.  He was not amused, but as is customary, he followed me in anyway.  Hmm?  Where is it?  Did they move it?  I’m forced to talk to the cute little pasty guy behind the counter named Jonathan (from Manchester).  I’m informed the license to sell Lulu expired two months ago.  Come again?  I sit on the steps in front of the Twinings tea room feeling very sorry for myself.  Well, crappity crap.  There goes the Mother’s Day present I wanted.  Harumph.

Now what??

This requires a trip down memory lane.  Oddly enough, through another Jennifer post.  I must really be having fantasies aboutcrushing on Jennifer, huh?  Anywhoo, for years and years I wanted a nice pretty Coach watch.  I could just never justify the upwards of $500 price tag.  As I am forever losing things, I was worried I would shell out the money only to discover I’d put it someplace safe- which in my house means it might disappear forever.  Ask my brother the insurance agent.  I’ve literally made three claims on jewelry only to find the missing item in question (one being my engagement ring but shhh about that, okay?!) and have had to return the checks. 

Then, comes 2005, my very first Mother’s Day about a month postpartum.  Puppy said I could get the much coveted watch, because he saw the size of that rip and oh, the episiotomy, too, so he took pity, because he freaking adores me.  Ah.  Amor of a watch kind.  Love.  Love it.  We moved from our tiny townhouse to our current house in July.  And, my watch?  Disappeared.  Jennifer flat out discovered she’d been robbed by her movers.  I hesitate to say that..and feel better in my head by saying it got mixed in with some boxes or paper and tossed by mistake, but the day I moved my new watch went awol and never returned.  Regardless of what actually transpired, I’ve been without a watch ever since.

After discovering my dreams of British coture quashed by the evil Mouse and his minions, I decided three years of not wearing one was enough - I wanted a watch.  I shared this with Puppy.  Very explicitly.  With exclamation points!!

Today he walked in from work.  “Honey, what do you want for Mother’s Day?”  Huh?  “Sweetie, I told you very specifically what I wanted.”  Giving me a very doubting glance.  “No.  Normally I ask and remember that you told me you wanted something and I forget what that is.  You never told me this time.” He admits it!  He deliberately forgets what I ask for!  “Pup?!  I told you I wanted a watch.”  Dawning realization.  “Oh, yeah…you did.” So, forgive me for not being around tonight, but I will be looking for a nice new watch online.  And, the price has just effectively been doubled.  And, I think I’m totally justified in doing that, don’t you?

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Filed under English comes from the Angles, I love the Puppy, Outta moolah, Shopping Gets Me Grounded, Tea with Milk