Happy Thursday, Bookworms!
I was having a hard time deciding on what to write today, so I’m straying a bit from books. The other day was rough for me. Like the great Pumbaa in The Lion King, “I’m a sensitive soul, though I seem thick skinned.” I got my feelings hurt, so I was down in the dumps. Jim knew I was feeling crummy, so he decided to bust out his dimpled charm and send me flowers at work!
Regular readers know I have a penchant for flowers. (Interested readers can check out my post on The Language of Flowers HERE) I spent a couple of summers and school breaks working in a flower shop, so they hold a special place in my heart. The shop I worked in received our online orders as computer printouts, but flowers are an old fashioned business. A lot of places aren’t computerized and write card messages out by hand.
Jim and I have a weird little relationship full of quirky inside jokes. For example… I went through a phase of calling Jim a “jerk weasel” when he displeased me. If he gave me a hard time about my cooking, he was a jerk weasel. Insisted on tickling me until I got the hiccups? Jerk weasel. Eventually the nickname was shortened to “weasel.” And it’s sort of taken on a life of its own. Sooo… my flowers came with a cutesy card message. It read:
You are becoming a great blogger. Long live Words for Worms! More blogs about weasels!
-A Local Weasel
Funny right? Well, it’s HYSTERICAL if you’re us. Instead of a computer printout, I received this:
That’s right, Bookworms! Some sweet floral shop employee had to read that oddball message and write it out. It really is lovely cursive, but I’ve got to tell you. Card messages aren’t usually a creative business. 99% of the stuff we sent out was: Happy Birthday, Happy Anniversary, With Deepest Sympathy, Happy Mother’s Day, Happy Holidays. The usual bland greetings. Once, someone quoted Dave Matthews lyrics on a card to their girlfriend, and we talked about it for days. Jim is probably on some sort of list now. That florist is probably submitting his note to some florist weird card message contest (I don’t think those exist, but they should.) If the flowers hadn’t cheered me up on their own, the idea of a complete stranger signing a card from “A Local Weasel” pretty much blew the top off my happiness meter.
Best Husband Ever.