He's a peach.
As I write this he is driving in what may be icy conditions to pick Girl up from work. He is doing this because his wife is a cry baby and hates to drive in the snow and ice. Beloved well remembers last years "snow incident" when I got stuck on a hill and had to be helped by a very attractive fireman.
Side note: Is it just me or are all firemen, regardless of age, simply hot? I'm just asking...
Anyway, last night my Beloved had a dream. In this night time fantasy I was singing his praises. He related to me that I couldn't stop saying enough nice things about all the
Never once in the dream did I tell him that he is nickle and diming me to death. I never sighed and retorted that he had no where to put these "treasures".
Why, I didn't even mention the fact that he already has three, yes three, complete vintage systems.
I laughed as he related his story, because, well, it was just a dream.
See, our home is filled with LX this and 450 that. Yes, I have rolled my eyes and said, "Seriously? Where on earth are you going to put that!?
One of the beautiful things about this little green house is that if you stand just outside the doorway of our bedroom, you cannot see all of Beloved's stereo junk. If you enter the family room, you will note that half of it houses our piano, computer desk, and my craft supplies (all neatly tucked away in a lovely standing cabinet).
Lurking on the other side of the room are three sets of speakers, two cassette decks, an amp, a tuner, and a turntable. There may very well be a CD player, but I'm not certain. There are stacks and stacks of albums. There are cassettes. There is the mother of all surge protectors.
It is the man's side of the room.
Please do not get me started on the speakers and stereo system that is set up in the garage.
And don't make me mention that he owns somewhere between six and eight hundred albums.
Our daughter, the ever lovely Girl, once asked me why I put up with all this stereo junk. I gave her what I believe to be the best piece of marital advice I'll ever give:
Your father doesn't hang out at the bar, he doesn't chase women, he doesn't do drugs. His unhealthy stereo addiction, while annoying, isn't destructive. This, I can live with.
When I consider the meaning of Beloved's dream I can only come to one conclusion: He has purchased something and he's afraid to tell me.
That's got to be it!