My wife married a moron.
I stopped by Walmart on the way home. There’d been some shopping that I needed to do and it was the one place where I knew that there’d be flowers. Unfortunately but not unsurprisingly, the pickins were pretty slim when I got there. After I first got there I decided that I’d get the flowers last so they’d get more time in the water, but after about 45 minutes of non-VD shopping, the pickins were even slimmer. In the part of the place that I was there were only two batches left, both of which were pretty sick.
Then I saw it. Perfectly bloomed flowers sitting on a table. Someone must have gotten them but decided to shed them before entering the line. They were perfect. They cost three times as much as the other flowers, of course, but these had the advantage of not being dead. The only complaint I had was that the vase was a little light on water and I’d have to be careful to prevent the flowers from falling out in the windy weather outside and on the drive home.
My fears, it turned out, were not entirely unwarranted. The wind was awful and it was all I could do to tilt the flowers towards the wind to prevent them from being blown out. On the entire drive home I kept a hand on the vase to make sure that it didn’t tip over, soak my car, and go waterless. It was a bit of a challenge.
I pulled into the driveway at about 8:00. Clancy was on call last night so I knew that she’d be asleep when I got in, so I wasn’t surprised that all the lights in the apartment were out. I carefully pulled the vase out of the car and noticed something peculiar: the water didn’t move. I reasoned that maybe I wasn’t looking at the waterline but rather a line in the vase and the water had, despite my best efforts, fallen out. I looked a bit closer and saw the water and wondered if maybe it had frozen in this unusually cold weather.
Then, of course, it hit me like a frozen water balloon. I took a closer look at the price tag.
Made in China.
Clancy was wonderful about it. Just as she was the last time that this had happened. Flowers are her thing and not mine, she reasoned, and it was the thought that counts. She was happy for me having been so happy when I thought that I had found this awesome deal on flowers. Plus, she said, these don’t die and she can keep them in the bed room so that there will always be “flowers.” Which is great except that every time I see them I am going to be reminded of what a dope I am.
I really do have a wonderful wife. A shame about her husband, though.