Having been a nerd (a wild, fearless nerd but a nerd nonetheless) for my entire life, my expectations for Valentine’s Day have never been ambitious. Oddly, I have had my fair share of roses. I’m sure there are catty people lurking about who would suggest, maliciously, that I may have gotten a few dozen more than my fair share.
After we’d been married for a couple of years, I told my husband that he shouldn’t send any more flowers. The expense for something that will only wilt and die is not as thrilling once the knot has been tied. We’ve been married for quite a while. Our anniversary was last week; Valentine’s Day is tomorrow. I am not lying when I say there is nothing I want.
Yesterday, I lied by inference. I had to. A man, we have a business relationship with, asked me about our anniversary last week. I told him that I had acquired enough jewelry throughout our marriage (truth) that I wouldn’t want any more (truth). I told him I was most pleased by our new down comforter and a beautiful, signature trash can in the kitchen. That was the inference lie.
You know, that I bought a down comforter a couple of weeks ago but he did not. The kitchen trash receptacle came to me via a gift certificate from my oldest and dearest friend. You know, too, that I am very frugal and I consider potential purchases for years sometimes before I cave. Such was the case, or could have been the case, with the trash can. I saw it online in December and visited it daily, okay maybe a few times a day, without actually buying. When the gift certificate arrived I applied it to the trash can purchase on Amazon. You know how I love a happy ending!
My husband sees me as someone who is deserving of roses and jewels, which is very sweet and among the many reasons we’re still married and I haven’t killed him yet. I am a person who doesn’t have a use for more jewelry but I do have a use for a fashionable sturdy, trash, receptacle. I’m sure you understand why I lied by inference to protect my husband. I just don’t see the point in buying something that has no utilitarian purpose. I am, after all, a nerd.
The foot pedal-lid lifter mechanism is good for 120,000 openings, which equals over 16 daily openings for the next 20 years. You cannot imagine the joy in my heart. If I live to be 80, and I limit myself to a mere 10 to 11 daily openings, the can will still last as long as I do. One of my catty friends told me if I died, and willed it to her, she’d like to know how many lifts were left.