My husband has decided to take me out to dinner tonight, so he calls me up and tells me to be ready to go when he gets home from work. Okay. First thing I think I should do, after getting my chores done, is to remove the Seahawk-blue coloured nail polish I was wearing, and apply a subtler shade.
I go to the bathroom and get the polish remover, only to see that it is almost empty. “Ah, well, I’ll work with what I’ve got,” I think. The thing is, this particular shade is tough to get off. It’s kind of a blue chrome colour. It’s smearing all over the place - my nails and fingers are stained blue. “Damnit,” I think. “I don’t have enough nail polish remover to clean this mess up. Time to scrub!”
So, I take my good old soap, water, and a washcloth, and begin scrubbing away. As I am doing so, my doorbell rings. I grab a hand towel and head to the door.
It’s the UPS guy! Yay! He has the gift I bought for my husband for our anniversary next week. Yay! Now if I’ll just sign here, he asks of me…
My hands come out from under the towel, and I take the electronic pen thingy in my blue-stained fingertips. He stares.
“Uh, ma’am?” he asks, tentatively. I look up at him. “Hmm?” I say.
“What happened to your hands?” He sounds almost horrified.
Without thinking, I pop out with, “Smurf got away.” Now he looks horrified. I felt the need to reassure him. I held up my blue fingers. “Don’t worry. I caught him.” As I do this, I see that there are also some pretty impressive cat scratches on my hands, too, that I hadn’t really noticed before. Well, damn. That smurf was trouble.
He purses his lips, and I can’t tell if he’s going to laugh, or if he believes he’s just encountered his first, real, true-to-life insane person. He turns and walks down the steps. “'ve a good day, ma’am,” he says, high pitched.
I take the package into the living room, and suddenly, through my open windows, I hear laughter. Uncontrollable laughter. I peer between my blinds and see the UPS guy, on his phone, laughing and laughing and laughing, with his face in his hands. Or maybe he was crying. I don’t know.
