Mr.Q came home from work today, and immediately upon coming through the door, got down on his knees with a pleading expression. "Honey...?"
"You know I love you...."
"Hurry up and spit it out, I'm in the middle of making dinner. How much did you spend on records this time?"
"So, what happened, then?"
"It's only one box. They were free!"
It seems that on his way home today, he went into a record store he hasn't been into yet...and they knew him by reputation. They gave him a box of doubles that they weren't going to sell.
"I can't wait for you to blog about it!" he said as he put his work clothes in the laundry. And as he was getting ready for his shower, he was giving a running monologue, gleefully composing the post he imagined I'd write.
He is such a wingnut.
One of these days, I might have to start asking what it says about me, having spent nine years with the loon! Someday, someone's going to find our bodies buried under a landslide of vinyl.