Lorie's Ornaments

It's the early days of the new year and we're dismantling the Christmas tree.

Like many husbands and wives, Lorie and I get each other an ornament every year. You've seen many of the super hero themed ornaments she's gotten for me already. So as we pack up I thought I'd post a couple of pics of what I've gotten for her.

Side note, she's always had a thing for Tweety bird from Looney Tunes. Although in more recent years her tastes have changed to a bird of a decidedly different temperament.




































































Thanks,
DCD

2069

Recently, my wife and I celebrated our fifteenth wedding anniversary. It was much more of a milestone for her than for me because… well… she’s easy to live with. And what did we end up doing to celebrate our anniversary?

We went grocery shopping.

I’m exaggerating, of course. We went for lunch at a hibachi grill in Charles Town and went to check out the downtown area, take pictures of buildings, and explore antique stores. The kind of stuff that we used to do many many years ago. Before kids.

But on this particular anniversary afternoon, we found ourselves at Weiss. Getting groceries and some Angry Orchard Hard Cider for our planned dinner, which would be grilling over our brand new fire pit.

We went through the line with the incredibly young cashier. In supermarkets, it’s usually the younger cashiers that are faster. However, there is a breaking point where you get one that’s too young and doesn’t care all that much. That’s what happened to us.

Since alcohol was involved with our purchase, the cashier asked Lorie for ID and had to type in her birthday to get the computer to continue with the transaction. The cashier glanced at Lorie's drivers license, and then turned to type, asking Lorie what her birthday was.

"Two, seventeen, sixty-nine." Lorie said.

That’s when the problems started. The cashier took way too long trying to enter this information. The computer was acting up.

Lorie leaned over to see what she was typing. I couldn’t see the cashier’s screen from my angle, but I could see Lorie’s face and the dark look that crossed it. Lorie leaned back.

“NINETEEN sixty-nine.” Lorie sighed.

“Oh!” The cashier giggled.

“TWENTY sixty-nine is actually in the future.” Lorie explained further.

“Yeah!” The cashier giggled again, and then went about completing her order.

I don’t see this as commentary on our culture, or an indicator of the intelligence level of the girl, or anything like that. I do find it interesting. It was the first time I had become aware that we’re dealing with a person who had probably never written the year as ‘nineteen’ anything on anything, unless it was a history paper. Her default mode was actually ‘twenty’.

This I found disturbing. My head started to do that thing where it swirls through the decades and the inter-relationships between the decades and how could Martin Landau be so YOUNG when filming Mission Impossible in the sixties and how can Sean Connery look so OLD when filming Untouchables in the eighties and have you seen Clint Eastwood lately and where IS Jack Benny, anyway?

Then Lorie punched me in the chest and said “Wake up. Let’s go.”

And we went home and grilled over our new fire pit while the kids ran around the yard being solidly in the year 2012.

What do they know?

Thanks,
DCD

Lorie and the iPhone Emergency

Folks,

My wife, Lorie, is the greatest person of ever.  It’s hard to put into words all the many many qualities that make her so awesome and my time with her so much fun.  But it’s VERY easy to explain it in a series of stories.

Lorie’s relationship with her all-important iPhone has always been a little puzzling to me.  A couple days after getting our first iPhones, we were both in Heaven over the device and therefore I was surprised to come home one day and find a sticky note on the back of her iPhone.  A sticky note?  The most advanced pocket computer on the planet and you’ve written a grocery list on a sticky note and stuck it on the BACK OF YOUR IPHONE?

She laughed me off and said:  “It’s so I remember we need groceries.”

So… much…wrong… with… that.

Lorie has spent a lot of time playing games on her iPhone.  Angry Birds, Zombie Farm, and Tiny Tower are the current favorites, I think.  I’m not a game player.  It’s perplexing to me at night when we’re supposed to be watching a show together.  More often than not, a show SHE picked out.  And yet, I look over and she’s firing a tiny bird at zombies building a tower, or some such nonsense.  When I question her on this, I get reminded that my chosen role is just to sit on the other end of the couch rubbing her feet.  And regardless whether she’s watching the show or playing her games, I’m getting what I wanted.

So… there’s that.

Lorie loses her iPhone often.  Lorie misplaces a lot of things, and does this often.  But the misplacing of the iPhone is something that plagues us quite a lot.  It’s not a disposable item like the car keys or the latest grocery receipt for the budget or the cat.  This is the iPhone… and we must find it as soon as possible.

The other day, Lorie grabs my iPhone to help her out in the search for her iPhone, lost yet again.  She uses my device to call hers, and then goes running through the house trying to pinpoint the ringing.  Cuteness abounds.  She finds her iPhone on a random shelf of a bookcase in the middle of the hallway.  The suspects are three in count.  Ashton, Alex and Lorie herself are all repeating offenders when it comes to not putting things back in their proper place.  Katie and I are the only right-thinking individuals in the family, as far as being organized is concerned.  

“How did it get here?”  Lorie yells, exasperated.

“Oh Heaven only knows how it would end up on a shelf outside of the hall bathroom.” I smirk in a smarmy, arrogant manner.

“It wasn’t me!”  Lorie defends herself.  “It must have been one of the kids.  I NEVER put it here.”  She’s truly annoyed.  “And it looks like I even missed a call!”  She checks the notification on her screen.  “And it was from you.  Why would you call me?”

I smile.

She looks at me.  Waits, and then looks down at her iPhone again. 

A smile slowly spreads on her face as she realizes the call was from her using my iPhone during her hunt.

She looks up.

I’m still smiling.

Not waiting for me to say anything, she hauls back and punches me in the chest.

Thanks,

DCD