I can’t imagine how anyone could ever be in a bad mood around my husband Phillip. He has no idea how wildly weird and funny he is. And all you can do is sit back and watch him and laugh. Let me give you a little example of what I mean. We were talking about our favorite gelato last night. Talenti. Now, I’m not a paid spokesman, but if anyone from the Talenti company should read this, I’d be more than happy to become one, and yes, I will accept payment in the form of your gelato. That stuff is AMAZING. RICH! CREAMY! Sexy AND delicious. The bad news is we can rarely afford it. It is SO worth the money, but that kind of splurge we just can’t do often. However! Every once in a beautiful while it will go on sale. SALE! We’re talking buy-one-get-one beautiful. When that happens, we treat ourselves to a pint each. He’s fond of the mango. I adore the raspberry cheesecake. As love in the universe would have it, they went on sale yesterday. So, we’re sitting on the couch, and I have no need really to go to the Publix, I told Phillip that I had not planned on going to get the gelato until Saturday, his day off, so we could both pick our own flavors, but I might want to walk up there anyway, just to work on my agoraphobia. And then I added, “Walking up there also gives me a chance to pray the rosary.”
We started talking about something else, but in the middle of my sentence, he stopped me and said, “I’m sorry. I don’t want to sound ignorant, but what is that prayer anyway? I only know the first part. Harry’s mother who’s name is Grace. But, what does the prayer mean?”
I just stopped. Stared at him with my eagle eyed slant of confusion. “What?????”
“Its like a Buddhist thing, right? With the beads?”
“Well….yeah, sort of, but let’s get back to the prayer part. What did you say????”
“Harry’s mother who’s name is Grace….and then something and something about wombs….”
I could only shake my head, smile a bit, the sort of smile (ironically) a Buddhist would be pleased with.
He seemed confused himself. “What???”
“Sweetheart, the prayer starts, ‘Hail Mary, full of Grace.'”
His face fell as he asked, “What the hell???? Then who is Harry?”
“Beats the shit out of me, pal. Have you really thought it said that this whole time?”
He shuffled in his seat, straightened his back, gave that chided look and said, “Well, so I had it wrong. Don’t get iritty with me….”
“Yeah, like when you get irritated with someone you get all iritty….”
Laughing, I put it all to rest. “I give up….”
God, I love that man. Just smiled and remembered why in the world it is I love him. He’s a 12 year old trapped in a 45 year old man’s body, has a heart bigger than his waist size, and says some of the most marvelous things in the world sometimes. You just can’t be in a bad mood around him. He would never hurt a soul, always puts others before himself.
It was a fun story, just thought I’d share. And yes, I DID get his permission first. 🙂
Now, we have a few more bears in the shop that HAVE to go right away. I think there is one of the crayon bears left and two of the Stripe bears. And that will be the end of that baby yarn I was playing with for the last few months. I’ve marked them way down to get them out, and get them homes. And if they don’t sell soon, I just might get a little iritty. Click here to check out the shop! Peace everyone!!!
If you appreciate this blog and would like for it to continue, please donate to help keep it going. Every single dollar helps! We couldn’t do it without your support!