Toys R Not Us

The husband and I braved the cold wind of Scarth Street to get to our parked car after the show at the Globe Theatre last month.  He was muttering something that sounded like “damn Shakespeare….  Couldn’t the Globe stage something in English?” when we got to the car and found the piece of paper wedged underneath the windshield wiper.   

Oh no, I was thinking.  We can’t get a ticket.  I told him he could park here.  And it was my big idea to drive all the way to Regina to go to the show in the first place.  Pricey enough, once you figure in gas, dinner, tickets, and our stupendously overpaid babysitter (our own fault).

But it wasn’t a parking ticket, just a flyer.  The Husband held it up to see it by streetlight as he folded himself into the car.  “Look at this,” he said, much more enthusiastic than he’d been about the play.  “A new product.  One of those home parties that you hate.  But this one might be good.”

I do hate home parties.    Going to a neighbour’s house to spend 30 minutes listening to a live infomercial in an atmosphere that discourages mocking is not my idea of a good time.  Never mind that there’s rarely any booze at these things.

But The Husband was saying “It’s for toys!  You could have one of these parties!  The Boy’s going to need Christmas presents.  And lots of the neighbours are buying things for their own kids and grandkids.

He was right about that.  We are buying a lot of toys for The Boy these days.  And it would be MUCH more relaxing having a few people over to leaf through a catalogue than trying to get a toddler out of Toys ‘R Us.

“You’re always going to their parties,” he said.  “You could have one of your own.”

And again, he was right.  I was beginning to get a picture of my living room, filled with all the community women enjoying coffee, eating homemade cookies.  Buying enough toys to ‘earn’ me enough free gifts to get us clear through Christmas and The Boy’s birthday to boot.  Well, why not?

The Husband handed me the paper.  That was why not.   Sex toys.

“Oh.” He said.  “Maybe I do need glasses after all.”

We left the flyer on the dash between us and drove home.

Comments

[Maureen]

Welcome to blogland! It's a great place!

Thank goodness the Boy doesn't read. Hide that flyer before he's found looking at the pages in a local store when you are out shopping!