‘Tis the season for stealth shopping
“It’s the most, wonderful time…of the year!” I sang at the top of my lungs while attempting a pirouette in the living room, almost taking out the whole stereo system and the TV.
Husband-Head sat on the couch and peered over the newspaper.
“It’s going to be the worst time of year if you trash all of our electronics,” he warned. “And it’s not even Thanksgiving yet — what are you getting so excited about?”
Shopping, of course.
Now that Halloween is over, we move full steam ahead into the shopping season, complete with sales and bargains that simply can’t be passed up.
But I didn’t even have to say it out loud.
“No,” Husband-Head said immediately, when he realized what I was celebrating. “We’re not going to play that little game this year where you pay off the UPS guy to hide your purchases behind the bushes in the front yard so I don’t see them.”
Why, whatever are you talking about?
I am an admitted shopping freak, but as I always say, I come by it honestly. I get it from my mother. She not only shopped for herself, but she would take my sister and me on shopping sprees and we would have to quickly run into the house with our purchases and hide them so our dad didn’t see.
However, unlike some people in my household, at least I admit that I like to buy stuff. And we’re not talking about the dogs or the cat, folks. Husband-Head also does his fair share of shopping.
During the summer, of course, it’s done under the guise of going to yard sales. And I do have to hand it to him, he comes home with a lot of good bargains.
In fact, he’s furnished his entire man cave with yard sale finds.
But shopping is shopping.
And Husband-Head likes to shop himself. He’s not only a huge fan of Craigslist, but also a local Facebook yard sale site as well.
In the last few months, he has come home with a leather chair, a stereo receiver, a small flat-screen TV and a Labrador Retriever puppy named “Charlie,” among other things.
“Busted!” I said, when I walked by Husband-Head the other day and looked at the screen on his laptop displaying Western Slope Craigslist.
Husband-Head didn’t answer because he was too busy laughing and just pointed at an ad.
“Take couch or — wife — $500,” the ad read, with a description of the large, leather couch.
Below it was a cryptic message.
“I’m the wife. Please take the couch.”
“I want it,” Husband-Head said with a laugh.
“What? The wife or the couch?” I challenged.
A few days later, Husband-Head pulled into the driveway with a giant gas grill in the back of his truck.
“Uhhh … grilling season is kind of over, don’t you think?” I asked him as I watched him unload the monster appliance. “Guess you couldn’t exactly sneak that one in here, could you?”
“It was on the Facebook yard sale page,” Husband-Head said with a smile. “Isn’t it great? Half of it is a charcoal grill, the other half is a gas grill and there’s a side burner. And I got it for a really good price!”
And I’m the one with the shopping problem?
So I didn’t feel bad at all after he went to bed that night and I ordered an angora sweater and some Ugg snow boots.
But I did add a message under the shipping instructions.
“Please put package under the bushes in the front yard.”
Heidi Rice’s column appears every Sunday in the Post Independent.
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