This morning as I was standing at the sink washing the breakfast dishes, I was whining to Shawn that I'd missed out on Pioneer Woman's drawing yesterday for a Wii. I said, "I even know what embarrassing story I would share. YOUR most embarrassing story." He immediately knew what I was referring to. "You mean the estate sale? Yes, that was definitely the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to me. And I don't get embarrassed." He does not. You can make all manner of jokes about the man's bald head. You can tease him about how, until about a year ago, he thought Diane from John (Cougar) Mellencamp's Jack and Diane slipped out of her Bobbie Brooks tennis shoes. You can tease him about his stubbornness or how clueless he is about current fads (see previous sentence) and culture. The man places little value on self-esteem. He can take anything you dish out and give you back a double serving. LOVES the banter. But bring up the estate sale and all you get is a sheepish grin.
When we lived in Kansas City, we lived about 5 minutes from Shawn's veterinary clinic. He worked long hours every day, leaving the house at 7:15 each morning and returning home no earlier than 7:15 in the evening. Fortunately he had an hour-and-a-half lunch break so he'd drive home and spend time with the boys and me.
One day, on his way home for lunch, he saw a sign for an estate sale as he turned the corner onto the main road outside our sub-division. He learned at an early age from his mother about the treasures to be found at garage sales and estate sales so he immediately pulled his car over to the side of the road. He walked to the door and waited for his turn to enter the house as people were coming and going through it.
He finally made it into the house and began his search for a great bargain. He examined a few knick-knacks and then picked up a lamp. As he was holding the lamp, looking at the bottom for a price, he realized no one else was as enthusiastic as he about all the goods to be had at this sale. He also noticed a good deal of the other bargain hunters were dressed in black. His mind quickly processed the scene and he realized he was not at an estate sale, he was standing amongst a crowd of mourners who had just come from a funeral. Since this was a work day for him, he was dressed in his khakis, button-down shirt, and dress shoes so he set down the lamp and tried to blend in. Imagining the scene of my husband thinking he's "blending" as he was just seen showing great interest in a lamp of the recently deceased always brings to mind THIS (ironically his favorite) line from the movie My Cousin Vinny.
After an appropriate amount of mingling time to dissimulate* his mistake he casually left through the door which he'd entered. And as he passed the Estate Sale sign which had beckoned him to enter the premesis in the first place, he noticed an important detail which had eluded him upon first glance: an arrow pointing down the road.
* Link provided so Kristi doesn't have to get out her 1974 Merriam-Webster Dictionary. : )