My husband collects bicycles.
He trades the pieces for other pieces with the ultimate goal of eventually creating a Frankenstein bike with all the best parts. Granted, he has a gift for trading, much like the boy who started out with a red paperclip and traded over the internet until he eventually got a house. (Yes folks, a house… Google it, I’m feeling lazy)
Well, it’s kind of a given that I hate this hobby of his. We have an apartment with very little storage space.
So I did what any other good wife would do. I told him he’d better get rid of most of these bikes…. or else.
I’m trying to drive home to you nice folks that I was being quite the uncompromising bitch about this, because every time I get into this mode, something always happens to make me realize what a raving lunatic bitch I’ve been.
He left the house one morning, after making a few phonecalls, with one of his favorite (and most valuable) bike frames. A couple hours later, he comes home with…. not more bike parts.
Wait.. what? Out of character? Not really. Every time I decide to let my inner jerk show, something like this happens:
He walks in with a used iPod. With a iHome dock/speaker set.
I am floored. He knows my old iPod is about as old as you get without being hamster-powered. He knows when my battery died, I lost all my songs to the ages. He knows how much I love plugging it in when doing work in the kitchen, so I can sing on the top of my lungs and pretend there’s not children screaming for more Dora in the next room.
It has over 2000 songs. I’m floored.
Granted, there’s enough soulful crooners on this, it makes me think that the former owner couldn’t have sex without music playing… not something I want to have to think about his friends.
But, as with every iPod that ever existed, there’s the Eagles, theres 2 different renditions of “Mommas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys” there’s Alanis and Jewel and I couldn’t be happier. I can now sing on the top of my lungs (much to my kids’ chagrin) to my hearts content.
So now, do I feel bad about being such a jerk about the bikes, now that he got something for me with no thought of reward? A little.
Am I going to lay off him a bit about the damn things cluttering up my house? Not really, although maybe I’ll try to be nicer… maybe.
Do I regret it? Hell no, dude! I got an iPod!