So Friday I posted my heart-wrenching tale of the "one who got away." By that, I meant the awesomely fantastic concrete monkey I saw outside a local antique store. I was really, really upset about it. I called Jeff repeatedly and begged him to please, please tell me that he really had him safe and sound and that there wasn't really another family out there getting to bask in the awesome that was MY MONKEY. He'd tell me that he was really, really sorry...that he'd go back to the antique store and see if there was any way to contact whoever they'd gotten the monkey from....
Then I came home to THIS:
He'd even gotten Prometheus a landscaping stone to sit on and a plant to hold. He got a cactus-y thing that he hopes I won't kill because I have a very, very horrible black thumb. Seriously....like, sometimes I buy myself a plant because I want so badly to have one and not kill it...but it just isn't possible...so I've taken to buying plants with someone already in mind to give it to to keep it from dying. I'm usually okay with a plant for a few days...maybe up to a week. That's when I will relinquish the plant to either my Mother-in-Law or to my good friend Jacquie. Maybe I'll be luckier with this cactus-y thing. It only needs "very infrequent" watering and it's not in a place where I can easily run over it with the car (this is actually a concern...true story...one time, my step-mother gave me a bunch of ferns. She told me that they'd need "misting" occassionally...so one day, it was raining a light mist and I thought "Oh, goody! Natural misting for my ferns!" I set them in the driveway because it was level and I didn't want them tipping over. 30 minutes later, I was cooking spaghetti, realized I was out of margarine for the garlic bread, hopped in my car and...yeah, you get the picture.) Anyway, we'll hope for the best for the poor helpless cactus. Prometheus may end up holding a bowl of rocks or something. It WILL NOT take away from the awesome, I assure you.
On another note, my daughter thinks Prometheus is creepy as hell. She refuses to see how cool he makes our house...she just insists that he looks like he'll come alive and murder us all in our sleep. Even though he doesn't have a key to the door. I have to admit that it took me a few days of catching a glimpse of him through the front door side lights while coming down the stairs before I got used to him. But I do love him, and I just KNOW that we have increased our cultural cred with the whole neighborhood. Or that the neighbors now think that I have the ability to place ancient Hindu curses on them. One of the two.
Also...I'm never playing poker with Jeff.