16 March 2006

I have made all of my friends into insane people.

Well, here I am, post hair cut. I can verify that I lost at least one pound in hair. Lindsay worked her magic, I didn't learn anything disturbing about my husband's past, and it didn't cost as much as I thought it would. Yeah for new hair!
Along with being hair-cut paranoid, I have several other quirks. One of those quirks is that I love to hide random objects. Examples: hiding an empty apple cider jug in the guest toilet at a friends' house during Bible study. Hiding shoes sitting in an entry way. Hiding my mom's undies in various places throughout the house in an attempt to mortify her. Or making a gigantic chain of undies by tying all bras, underthings, and nylons together, stretching this chain across the bedroom door my parent's bedroom, and attempting to make a trap out of it.
I blame my Momo for this. Momo is my crazy Swedish grandma on my mom's side. She also has a fettish for hiding things and playing tricks on people. Especially when those tricks are only funny to her. She gets a kick out of life--and I love that!
Awhile back our bible study was doing the 5 Love Languages book by Gary Chapman. Everyone else was responsibly socializing after the study in the kitchen. Not me and my husband. We were socializing in the closet. Which lead to a funny idea--why don't I hide ONE of each pair of shoes of everyone there around the house in various places. Which I did. And then husband and I made a speedy exit.
Several minutes later I get a call from BFF. "What did you do with the shoes????!!!" Very angry tone, though I could tell it was put on. So, naturally, I explained that hiding shoes is my love language. Or a subset of my love language of "Hiding Things." And refused to disclose the location of said shoes.
People, this is not one of the love languages. The five love languages are physical touch, words of affirmation, quality time, giving of gifts, and ......crap. I can't remember the last one. But, it is not Hiding Things.
As I said, I have quirks.
Well, it has been threatened for some time that they all would get back at me for doing such a scandalous thing as expressing my undying affection by hiding their shoes.
I thought it was forgotten.
Until now. Until last night.
I arrive home after a full night of bellydance practice, exhausted. I can't see out of my eyes properly. And I see something strange and blue emanating from the light fixture. It is a fuzzy screen duster for the computer. How did it get here, I wonder? Maybe the dog? No, that is too high for the dog....
I accuse the husband. Obviously he is being silly, and I will have none of it. Husband tries to act innocent, but I do not relent. What else has he done, I ask?
Then I realize, there has been a perpetrator in our midst. Shoes are missing. One shoe from several pairs in fact.
I am laughing. Hysterically. Husband is hugging me. Suddenly, husband notices something else...
I have a bird cage in my dining room that contains a knitted uterus. Yes, a knitted uterus. Get over it. It is a symbol about how I feel about bearing offspring.
The uterus was accompanied. By a shoe. One shoe. A black shoe.
I am muttering....and laughing.
But I am tired, and it is time for bed, and the Perpetrator probably didn't have time to do anything else.
Husband and I go through the nightly ritual of brushing teeth, shaving, sharing extremely small, extremely cramped bathroom. I get in the shower AFTER I turn on the water. And I scream. Because hanging from my shampoo holder is one of my brand new suede shoes. Which, for some miracle, has not been adulterated by the waterous spray from the shower head.
I hand the shoe to the husband. Husband can only shake his head despondently at this point. He feels defeated. I am still laughing.
Time for bed. Finally. Except that I am not alone in my bed. There is a sharp bird candle holder next to my pillow. Hello candleholder.
What else lurkes in the formerly sacrisanct confines of my home, I can only wonder. But one thing is for sure: I really have made my friends insane. One only has to look to these examples--the hiding of the objects and the list of birthday presents--to see that not all is well.


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