"Who is Vera Bradley?" he asked.
I had no context in which to place him anywhere near the words Vera and Bradley.
"It's the name of a designer," I answered. "Why?"
"At the casino this weekend, they're giving away either a Vera Bradley cosmetic bag or a coin purse."
"Oh," I said, sort of losing interest. "I'm not really into those designer things." My idea of a good purse is one with the split straps so I can carry it on my motorcycle if necessary. It also has to last forever, because I only change purses when one completely disintegrates.
"So you don't want me to get you one?"
"Well, if you're going to get anything, get me the cosmetic bag." It's a toss up which one I have less of: cosmetics or coins.
He was immediately on the phone with a (womanless) friend who was also going on the trip, trying to coordinate which one would get the coin purse and which one would get the cosmetic bag, so I could have both.
It's not that important to me. I mean I'll take whatever they bring home (if anything - it will require that they walk ALL the way across the casino), but did it really necessitate a round of phone calls several days in advance?
They left this morning, Hubby having awakened an hour BEFORE the alarm because he gets so excited about going on these golf/gambling trips. Don't tell him I told you that; it would bruise his masculinity. But it's true.
They left our house around 5:15 in an attempt to get through Atlanta before the worst of rush-hour traffic. Hubby texted me from Alabama:
"Wayne forgot his suitcase."
Wayne is the same (womanless) friend he made arrangements with for the Vera Bradley thing(s).
I won't bore you with the whole string of text messages. He wanted me to check to see if the suitcase was sitting in the yard at our house, which meant I had to turn around and go back home. It's not like I've been on time this week anyway, so why start on Friday?
Hubby said I didn't need to turn around, that I would have noticed it, but I couldn't stand the thought of neighborhood dogs getting hold of Wayne's clothes and scattering them all over the neighborhood. I went home, and Wayne's suitcase is sitting in the backseat of his car in our front yard.
Guess they'll be going shopping before they go to the casino. You better believe Wayne didn't leave his golf clubs behind. Got to have those necessities.
Because he's a MAN, they can probably get his shopping done in 10 minutes in a Wal-Mart, and he won't even have to try anything on.
I just hope Hubby brings back some coins for me to put in my Vera Bradley coin purse.
Out of consideration for my
Remind me, though, if I forget to tell you later, the circumstances under which I found myself, first thing this morning AT SCHOOL, looking at a picture of a penis on a student's cell phone.
Welcome to the island.