Monday, October 5, 2009

What Can Brown Do for You? Ask my Husband...

It has taken a few years and a few dozen oatmeal cookies bribes, but our UPS man has finally listened to my plea of: Never Deliver to My House on a Friday (my husband's day off). 
I have managed to keep the excess of Internet shopping mostly secret, notwithstanding a few neighborly slips.  
"Man, you guys have certainly had a lot of UPS visits lately. Now that I think about it, your son bears an uncanny resemblance to the driver. Ha ha." at a cocktail party.
Bring, Bring. "Oh, Fed Ex accidently dropped ANOTHER package of yours at my house. I'll bring it by after dinner." 
Darling Husband thanks me for taking charge of the cardboard recycling runs without being asked and never questions my answer of, "Oh, this? (quickly feeling sleeve for tags) No, I borrowed it from Twin Mama." To his, "Oh, have I seen that before? Is it new?"
Not that I condone lying to one's spouse, but carrying extra grocery store bags in the car to covertly sneak new stilettos into the house does save a lot of energy explaining why I (capital N) needed them. Men just don' t get that kind of stuff.
 I never nag him when he buys a new gadget like a buffer or air compressor. I counted up last month--he owns over 19 things with motors on them. One man's power washer is another lady's couture corsette dress for upcoming holiday parties. (God, it is gorgeous!) 
Today, however the gig is most certainly UP(S). Spacing that Darling Husband took today off, there was nothing to do when the telltale BEEP BEEP of that giant brown truck began its backward descent down our driveway. 
I freeze. Maybe he won't hear it. 
The large back door rumbles open. The dog runs to meet Don (who always has treats in his pocket). And the kindly, older delivery man whistles as he loads the dolly up with stacks of boxes. 
Shit shit shit. 
DH looks at me over his spectacles like a pissed off grandfather. Slowly rises from the table where he is already grouchy from paying bills and stalks to the garage. 
I grab the vacuum from the floor and start sucking up Cheerios as loudly as I can. 
No matter. This ancient language between husband and delivery man needs no audible words. 
Door slams. 
"Um, ahhh. Christmas presents?"
Checks a label. "And what lucky recipient gets a box from Victoria's Secret?"
But it's all for a way! My Sexy Naptime ritual for today was going to be to try on all the sexy somethings to plan seduction for every night this week. And pass that on to you, dear reader. 
With some fast thinking, I decided an impromptu fashion show was in order to quell the anger rising in the kitchen. 
Thankfully, when it doubt, lingerie does amazing wonders when distraction is the order of the day. 
And that lovely ladies, is the Secret Victoria has been selling all these years. 

1 comment:

  1. haha I see I actually have an ad for Vicky's at the bottom today!