...cause he'll be the king of the bums once he's got your watch on!
It's not a Rolex, but my special lady got me a pretty awesome watch for my birthday. It makes me feel like much more of an adult to check the time on my wrist than on my cell phone.
My special lady insists I don't wear it in the kitchen where I'm elbow deep in batter, usually, so the watch spends most home time on the shelf. Or on the dresser. Or on the nightstand. Or hanging from the towel peg. It hasn't quite settled down with its permanent abode, like the Amish. It has a few drinks and spends the night wherever.
And because it's not routine, I forgot to put it on last Friday, and didn't go home before leaving town for the long weekend. Upon returning I forgot to wear it again Tuesday and by the time I looked for it Wednesday it was nowhere to be found. One of the first things I looked through was the trash next to the dresser. But o oh, my special lady took the trash out already. That is, she took the trash out of the bedroom to the kitchen, beyond that it's my job to take it out. We found my watch in the trash. Hooray!
The moral of the story is, men should take out the trash, and women should do the cleaning. The other moral is, make sure no bums find your valuables.
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2 comments:
You don't make clear how the watch moved from your dresser into the bedroom trash.
That's because it's a mystery, Tete. Somebody must have not been careful putting something on or taking something off the dresser. Now, my special lady and I could blame each other till the cows come home to get slaughtered and made into juicy cheeseburgers with jalapenos mixed in, but why not just blame the baby? It'd be typical of her to reach up there blindly for unseen treasures, despite that being forbidden. The dresser's fairly new, so the "hands off" rule hasn't sunk in yet. Or the temptation to take stuff anyway is just too strong.
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