By WR Jones
This is the tulip I bought for my wife for Valentine’s day this year. Of course I didn’t buy it ON Valentine’s day. That would have been too expensive. I like to wait for emotions and prices to settle down. I was going to get a rose but the grocery store wouldn’t sell me a single rose; I would have to buy a dozen. Whoa, hold’er right there Newt, that would be a lot of money.
I picked this tulip instead. Now here is the sad part; the next day when my wife had her back turned making my breakfast, I slipped it out of the vase she put it in, held it out of sight as I went past her to the garage, and placed it in my car. I wanted to paint it. Why didn’t I just ask her? I don’t know. Would someone arrange for me to spend some time on the Dr. Phil show please?
I borrowed this vase for the painting. The English language is not all that clear cut to me. Is it borrowing if you don’t mention it to the person you borrowed from? And another question, how long can you keep it without informing them and still have it be borrowing? Well, that question is moot here anyway. I dropped the slippery damn thing. What a mess. I’m lucky I didn’t cut myself picking up all that glass.
I suppose I should mention it to her but I’ve never been proactive in seeking punishment. If the thought even flitted across my mind it quickly dissappeared when she sort of flipped out on discovering the vase was missing. She was whining about it being a priceless heirloom handed down from her great great grandmother. She cried out something about it being a personal gift to that old ass relative from some fellow named Tiffany. Christ, how am I supposed to hear the game with all this caterwauling?