dancing.

who on earth would send this girl roses? is he crazy? (vintage2008)

Our phone has been unplugged for the last three days. Well, okay, I plugged it in once because I had the feeling a friend was about to call soon. (I was right. Wink) But other than that, our communication with the outside world has been limited to email and smoke signals. I’m much better at the former.

We actually do have a legitimate reason for having the phone unplugged. My dad’s employer won’t leave him alone on his vacation. Nice people, huh? This is the problem with being an all-around nice guy and — perish the thought — having a sense of responsibility: everyone knows that you can usually be counted upon to pick up the slack. Well, Dad decided he’s not going to give in this time.

Instead, that reprobate and I are going to head down to Columbus for a nice, quiet OSU football game. We might even indulge in a late summer ice cream cone. If I bat my eyes at him just the right way, I might even be able to finagle a meal or two out of the deal. (He’s such a softie.)

In other news, my mom and Claire came home from running errands today with goofy grins on their faces. The minute I stepped out to greet them, Mom bounced out and said:

“Here, Nellie, these came for you at the shop.”

A dozen roses. Eleven white and one pink.

“Um. Okay. From…?”

“No tag.”

Mom grinned, and she and Claire immediately started in with coy speculations on who it might be from. I felt the beginnings of a headache coming on. Secret admirers are only romantic in books. Real women want tags with names.

“There’s no way,” I said, “The shop? I mean, c’mon…that’s just bizarre.”

What boy in his right mind sends flowers to a girl at her father’s place of business?

“They have to be from dad or someone,” I said, “And besides…” I looked closer. Hints of brown curled at the edges of the delicate, white petals. “…They’re old.”

“Boy,” said Claire, “You really attract the good guys, don’t you?”

Well, long story short (you should really thank me), the truth came out after about five minutes of relentless teasing from the Dynamic Duo. Apparently Sams Club was running some promotion for its business class members: walk in the door, get an out of date batch of flowers for your honey. (Hey. I didn’t say it was a good promotion.)

Apparently, Mom grabbed the flowers and used them to propose to Dad. He refused. So I got them. (No word yet on how the refused proposal will affect already-initiated commitments.)

And that, my friends, has been my week. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Smile

Who would have thought?

I actually like Florida. Also: This is a test post.