R. frequently comes up with a stunner on his way out the door in the morning. Today (I'm condensing a conversation here) it was the pronouncement that we (meaning I) must buy a snowblower today.
"There's going to be six inches, and I'm thinking about your parents, too." (Side note: my father was recently diagnosed with serious heart disease and will not be doing a lot of shoveling in the future.)
"But...but..." and then I realized what was really bothering me. I have no problem driving somewhere and loading a snowblower into the van. Okay, I do have a problem with that but I'll do it if I have to (especially since I know a guy will bring the snowblower out to my van and heave it in there). No, my main problem was in picking out the correct snowblower. I am often accused of going cheap in major purchases. My most frequent accuser will remain nameless, but his initials are NSBR. "Unless you buy one and bring it home on the train, we're not getting one today," I shouted lovingly. I had not had my coffee yet.
But then! But then! I went online and discovered that snowblowers (which are now called snow throwers--were they always?) are on sale at Sears. I sent R. an email with the link and said if he picked the thing out, I would go pick it up.
And! And! He got the email on his Blackjack, went to the website, picked out the model, and emailed me back--from the train--and I just ordered the snowthrower and will soon pick it up!
How cool is that?
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