Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Thoughtful Bob

Mom would always comment that son Bob was thoughtful.  Even at an early age I was fairly adept at remembering birth dates and shopping for presents on my own.  Mom?  She always received jewelry that had price tags that a kid under the age of ten could afford.

Tomorrow is Wifey's birthday.  She enjoys celebrating her special day all week and this week is no exception.  The celebration began with Thoughtful Bob gathering purple tulips, this bunch of lovely's, and a bouquet of Iris ---all found at the local supermarket. 

Gifts have been purchased and "wrapped".  I hate wrapping.  Next to a root canal, wrapping gifts is right up there with things I hate.  So I buy gift bags to put the gifts in and lots of colored tissue to stuff them with.  No ribbons.  No bows.   No scotch tape to fool around with.  Kind of like eating at In and Out Burger.  Get in.  Get out.  All wrapped up ready for the birthday party.

There are three gift bags in all.  Each with something Thoughtful Bob bought as he remembered something that Wifey said maybe six months ago.  It goes like this, "It sure would be nice if I had....", or "If anyone wants to get me a birthday gift it sure would be nice if they bought . . . . "   You get the picture.  Having a pretty good memory comes in handy.  I remember all those things come birthday time or Christmas.  It beats wondering up and down the aisle of Macy's thinking, What shall I get, what shall I get?  What does she want? 

I'd like to shop the adult toy market for Wifey but that kind of gift won't fly with her.  When asked about what her adult toy preference would be Wifey replies, "We're not coming on that shit, Bob."  Like my mother, Wifey loves jewels for her birthday and not toys.  And so that conversation ends.  Ain't no thang, people.  Bob can improvise.  And does.  :)

I remember one particular drill sergeant during basic training who used to yell, "We're not coming on that shit, soldier!" when anyone screwed up.  How I remember during one drill the squadron marching one way and there's Bob marching in the opposite direction.  That earned me a, "We're not coming on that shit, Bob!" and fifty pushups in a ditch alongside the road.  On that day I did this twice . . . squadron going one way, Bob going the other.  It's likely that Wifey learned, "We're not coming on that shit! from me.  It comes out now and then when I'm more than a little pissed off. 

 It's funny what comes to mind and when or how it comes to mind.   Guess that was one of those unforgettable moments. 

Bob to Sarah Palin.....Bob to Sarah Palin:  About your thinking you'd make a good candidate in 2012......WE'RE NOT COMING ON THAT SHIT!

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Whiskeytown Lake, Very Northern California, United States