Sunday, November 18, 2007


I went to the mailbox and on the way back I saw two chairs in front of the garage door. Now whom do they belong to, I wondered. I’ll bet Lynne has something to do with it.

She knew all right. She bought them at a garage sale...oh, excuse me, a trunk sale--at Thanksgiving Point, mind you. As if anything bought at Thanksgiving Point was a good idea. And excuse me again; she said the "Chair Fairy" brought them. Did she think I would be charmed by her winning smile and adolescent cleverness? Not today.

She thought the chairs would be great to add to the garage full of junk we already have. Not today. Not tomorrow, either. Not ever. We need to start getting rid of the junk, not bringing more in. When will I ever convince her of that fact?

So we had a quiet discussion about the off chance that we did not need more junk. She did not think it was a quiet discussion. She said I was yelling. I do not yell. I am focused. Very focused.

Finally, in a pathetic little voice she said she'd give them away. That did it. The pathetic little voice gets me every time. I think she was serious too; she'd give them away.

The chairs went to the garage, next to the four black ones with the rush seats. Who knows when they were added to the junk-filled space that I laughingly call a garage. The chairs do come in handy. Not as handy as six folding chairs would be, six folding chairs that match, but folding chairs would be the sensible thing. No one ever said my wife was sensible.

"Here, son,” I say. “Sit on this chair. It's nice and sturdy."

I see her smile. She thinks she’s won and that I think her chairs are a good thing. I’ll let her keep her illusion. I guess I’ll continue to scrape ice off the windshield all winter while all her chairs—and who knows what else she has squirreled away in the garage--have a nice dry home.

I’ve decided to try and make my mind think that folding chairs are overrated. I might as well as there is another grandbaby on the way and the toddler grandson will have to give up the high chair for a real chair. I have a feeling that Lynne is keeping her eyes open for one—not a sensible folding chair but a sturdy, interesting one that doesn't match any of the six we already have

I think I'll go take a nap. Or get on the roof and blow something off with the leaf blower. Blowing things off the roof makes me feel like I'm in charge. And the view isn't so bad, either.


Beck said...

My house looks like a bunch of stray chairs just wandered in and decided to stay. I think it's a good look.

Ekim said...

I should send you some of my spare chairs. My dining room table came with four but I hardly ever have company here so I really only need one.

Lynne's Somewhat Invented Life said...

Ekim, is this a ploy for sympathy?

Call three friends and say, "We're having pot luck at my house. Bring something delicious. And bring a lot so I can keep the leftovers."

Then your chairs will be full and you won't have to ship them to me and I won't have to watch for the UPS truck and distract Phil by saying, "Whoa, there's a fire in the basement."

Wonderful World of Weiners said...

Love your blog - glad I stumbled on in!


Cindy said...

Wow, Lynne, your husband writes well too! You both make me laugh.
By the way, is the garage really for the car??? LOL I didn't know that! Guess we will have to work on that too!!