“Let me get
this straight: she stole your car, you
want to go after her, and you want my truck?”
“That’s
right,” I nodded. “Where are your keys?”
“Umm,
no. You’re not using my truck.”
“Why not?”
“Why not? Because I don’t want you driving over there.”
“How exactly
am I supposed to get my car back?”
“Maybe you
should’ve thought of that before you left your keys in the ignition.”
“They weren’t
in the ignition, they were in the keyhole of the trunk.”
“Okay,
whatever. So, let’s say, hypothetically,
I loan you the truck, you find her, and then you get the car back …”
“Yay! That’s the plan!”
“How are you
going to drive two vehicles home?”
“Wait—what?”
“You drive
the truck to Target, you find her, you get the car, how are you going to drive the car and the truck?”
“Oh. I guess I didn’t think of that. All right, Plan B. You drive me over there, I track her down,
and then I drive the car home and you drive the truck.”
“I don’t feel
like spending my entire evening chasing Muse around Target, and with both kids,
no less. And how do you even know that’s
where she went?”
“I don’t. But my friend Andrea said …”
“Forget it.” He walked out of the room.
This had
happened once or twice in our decade-long marriage: we had disagreed. I did what anyone would do in my shoes. I walked over to 7-11 to buy some M&Ms
for renewed strength and emergency sustenance.
I was just
about to complain to the manager that they were out of Peanut M&Ms when I
happened to catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of my non-mascared eye.
“Muse! What are you doing here?!”
She was
holding the last King Size bag of Peanut M&Ms. She shrugged and responded predictably, “I needed some chocolate.”
“Where’s my
car, Muse?”
“It’s out front. Here, here are the keys.” She handed them to me. They felt cold.
I went over
to the front plate glass window to see if my car was there or if she was
lying. My car was there, and it looked
like she’d even had it washed and waxed.
That was unexpected.
I turned
back to face her. “Thanks, Muse, thanks
for getting my car washed.”
“Excuse me?”
replied the 7-11 manager. “Oh, I’m sorry, I was talking to my friend.”
“Your
friend?”
I looked
around. The place was empty. And she’d taken the M&Ms.
MOV
MOV, just keep an eye on the M&M's....and get there first ":)
ReplyDeletewww.incomingbytes.blogspot.com
Why does she always get the last of the M&Ms??
DeleteI love reading your blog!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Joyce Ann!!! :)
DeleteWow! I really did think she'd be at Target...cheap chocolate!
ReplyDeleteMaybe Muse knew you told me she'd be there so then she went somewhere else? She is clever.
DeleteObviously, I need a different muse. As of late, she hasn't left me any ideas at all..none..not even on pose-it notes. And she definitely hasn't gotten my car washed. If I thought I could encourage a better grade of muse, I would be willing to buy Peanut M&Ms in bulk.
ReplyDeleteShe does seem to be an all or nothing kinda gal.
DeleteSo, you never got your peanut M&Ms? How sad! I totally would have traded the the wash and wax for the chocolate!
ReplyDeletePrincess WeeWee
Queen Virgo was pretty happy with the clean car though.
DeleteOH GOD! Where the hell did Muse go now?!
ReplyDeleteYou will just have to come back and keep reading.
DeleteI think you should convince the husband that Muse has gone to Hawaii or Tahiti and you MUST go there in search of her!!! :-)
ReplyDeleteCouse, I like the way you think!
DeleteI just wanna hate Muse, but dammit, she washed and waxed your car.
ReplyDeleteThen again, she looks so cute in those jean shorts and has really great hair. Maybe I CAN hate her.
It pretty much is a love hate relationship, eh?
DeleteYou should lure her with M&Ms like E.T. with Reeses pieces.
ReplyDeleteHa! Good idea. :)
DeleteFunny stuff
ReplyDeleteThank you, Carrie Lynne.
DeleteWait, so Muse is now on foot? You should've run after her to see if you could tackle her and get those peanut M&Ms. I didn't realize Muse had a nice side, though - washing and waxing your car. Awesome.
ReplyDelete