An actual conversation held in our home yesterday:
PDaddy: Don't be upset if the answer is "two years ago", but how long have we had pictures of canaries over the bathtub?
Me: You're in luck, only about 3 weeks.
PDaddy: Phew . . .
As you may have gathered by PDaddy's hesitation, this is a conversation that is held in our home on a weekly basis. I buy something new, I display something new, something new is something old before PDaddy has a clue it ever existed.
Don't get me wrong, this usually works to my advantage. The "buy something new" part . . . probably . . . happens more than it should, especially as it applies to non-functional home decor items. I worry that the knick-knacks . . . knock him for a loop. I get concerned that he feels swallowed up in too much . . . pretty.
So, if he doesn't even know it was there in the first place, how bad can it be? It clearly isn't overwhelming, it is obviously at the height of good taste. Right PDaddy?
And the canaries were to die for. Eight bucks for two pictures at an antique store! There's only one word that can be used to describe that. "Cheap."
So, does this ever happen at your house?
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9 comments:
hahahaha. seriously, i am lol-ing! cheap! hahaha. maybe i'm pathetic, whatever, but it is funny!
having grown up with a dad who would take detailed notice of a new haircut - "nice layering!" - two weeks after the cut, i was kind of hoping for a similar deal.
unfortunately, mr. dub is onto my purchases within seconds of their arrival and debut. also, he has a say in the decor.
shoot!
(although, it does help that our tastes are quite similar.)
This happens in my house almost every day. Good thing you taught us how to be so "Cheap, cheap."
To my chagrin, my apartment remains largely knick-knack free. In fact, it remains largely furniture free. This is too bad considering the fact that I have no husband and can buy whatever knick knacks I want whenever I want without having to worry if someone's going to notice. Alas...
I have never failed to notice in less than a nanosecond any change to our TV, refrigerator, or toilet. What is hanging on a wall I never look at over a tub I would never get into that was purchased for less than my average lunch (or even my pre-lunch snack or my post-lunch chaser) or involves frames or fabric or little birds, well that just doesn't enter my consciousness which is too busy with Steve Garvey's lifetime batting average, my newly discovered hunger for all things involving British football (thanks, Ginny--I didn't know who Nick Hornsby was until the mention on your blog--now I've read Fever Pitch in the past two weeks and High Fidelity is probably next and then I'll be staying up until 1:30 am not only watching an Arsenal vesus Fulham game from last April (which I did last night) but obscure indie films and classic punk groups and getting a night job at a video store and trying to find fish & chips or meat pies in the middle of the night), rereading the latest Fry's and BestBuy flyers, sorting my navel lint collection, watching Jay Leno interview the latest young alcoholic female celebrity (mommie loves it when I do that and rave the next day how bright and down to earth they seem) and other similarly important things.
As long as its interior decor (at least until we make the long-procrastinated move to either modern minimalist or classic pub decor), and its cheap (or cheep), I pretty much think its for the birds (i.e., for women, people with more art, taste, or patience than I, or the avian community generally).
Will we ever be fortunate enough to read a blog by PDaddy featuring a British football/obscure indie films/classic punk groups/meat pies theme?
Love the birdie story. Sounds like something that would happen around here, if I had any eye for design and ever purchased anything for the walls ... but given my hubs' famous memory, I'm quite sure the reaction would be similar!
Honey, we already HAVE modern minimalist decor . . . you know . . . certain stretches of the white countertop that don't have anything on them at the moment.
As for classic pub? Would the actual decor of our home actually involve meat pies? 'Cause I think I'd have to give the ix-nay to that.
The meat pies would only be transitory accessories to the decor. A few moldy chips (fries) stuck in the couch cushions should be sufficient to provide the requisitie musty aire, and perhaps a few splashes of HP sauce on the tablecloths or doilies, and maybe a dart board. Root beer instead of ale probably spoils the image, but no more than canaries in the loo.
Do you guys (pdaddy and mommie) ever talk on the phone anymore, or is it all blogging and text message communication these days?
Glad to help with the Nick Hornby, Dad. Although I wouldn't recommend How to Be Good. Not my fave.
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