Last night I got to go to Ikea with my neighbour, Jules. (I like to spell "neighbour" with a "u" now. And colour. And "maximise" with an "s". In case you were wondering.) We wandered and looked at kitchens (for her) and ate swedish meatballs. (Yum.) It was the perfect girl date. And we looked at this lamp.
Me love lamp. You see, I actually spotted this lamp at a Thai restaurant after church a few weeks ago. I ogled it shamelessly from our table and contemplated stealing it. (It was sticky-taped to the countertop. Yes, I checked.) And then, imagine my joy when, upon closer examination, I realized it was from my Happy Place.
Jules and I admired the lamp, and later I showed Jase a picture of it. "Isn't this so cool? Wouldn't it make a great bedside lamp or something?" He looked at the photo. "Umm, not happening. Not in our house. That's just weird."
Exsqueeze me? Did you say something? Because it sounds like you just dissed my new favorite lamp. In a very flippant manner. And since when are you so passionate about lamps? Gah!
So, my lamp dream is crushed, like so much...so much things that get crushed. Underfoot.
And now! NOW he is sitting next to me reading the new Lee Child book.
He knows I've been waiting for it to come out and now he's reading it first. When will I get to read about Jack Reacher wandering the countryside and teaching the bad guys a lesson? When will I get to read about how to properly head butt someone? Has Jason forgotten that I automatically get priority in situations like these? I'm pretty sure that was in our wedding vows. Love, cherish, and undisputed rights to the last cookie and new books. Unfair, sir! I wish you could be here and see how smugly he's reading it. Oh, here's my glass of wine and my new book. Hmmm. I guess you'll have to flip through that issue of "Home Beautiful" that you've already read twice. It's just rude, really.
Enjoy the book, babe, by the light of our inferior bedside lamp.