July 16, 2011

There's a Pirate in my Mixing Bowl

Hey, everyone!

Do you know what time it is? It is 12:50 a.m., and I am sitting in my kitchen, boiling eggs and potatoes, because I am supposed to bring potato salad to a reunion tomorrow. And I remembered 20 minutes ago. *sigh*

Well, it seems I'm not entirely alone. The puppy is snoring in the next room, and little kitty is periodically rubbing against my leg. But we have another companion, too.

A little history. You know how it is when you first move in with someone. Your new living arrangements inherit... things. You know - things that make you, for the briefest moment, think again about sharing your living space with this other person. Things like a collection of tee-shirts that appear to have been used as target practice (and, in my husband's case, that's not an absurd guess), or the bright yellow fish with fluorescent purple glitter lips and sunglasses that, apparently, is expected to share the Christmas tree with your grandmother's antique glass balls.

Or the pirate head. The pirate head that someone made (on purpose) from a coconut, and someone else with disposable income actually paid for. Then gave to my husband to let him know they were thinking about him all the way in Aruba. How sweet.




Isn't it cute? NOT!

Confession: I started trying to throw this thing away the day we moved into our house. Jayson found it in the garbage. "How did this get in here?" he asked. "It must've fallen."

"No, I threw it there."

And that was how our first married fight started. Long story short, he agreed to keep it out of sight, and I agreed to only throw it away if I saw it again. To be honest, I'm not really sure what happened immediately after that, but I can tell you what has been happening ever since.

Mr. Aruba (a/k/a Coco, the Fearsome Buccaneer) has become the family joke. We hide him on each other. He has been all over the place! He's been hanging in the shower, wrapped around toothpaste bottles, hidden in lunchboxes, stuffed under pillows, mingled with granola bars, pinned to a sewing machine, hung on the wall of the living room (ps - I didn't notice that one until after we'd had a house full of people!), fallen out of laundry baskets, dangled in the fridge, zippered into pockets... And tonight, I found him in my mixing bowl.

Hey, if you have to stay up insanely late boiling potatoes, you might as well enjoy it with a pirate.

Now where to hide him next... Any suggestions??

~ Sarah

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