Fed, she wants new furniture, and who can blame her? But on Memorial Day she has me drive the whole family to a town 120 miles away. I figured she'd called ahead. You see, these little Western towns of 5 to 15000 people don't have sales like the big cities; there isn't enough traffic. We got there and the store was closed. The other one was open. I tested all the gliders and selected the one which fit the best. ( I have some skeletal problems and this is important) Yesterday I ask her when she is getting the new sofa and gliders. "Oh, I'm not getting those Gliders," she said, "I didn't like the style. I thought I'd look at some others and get those."
"Well," she said, "I figured all gliders in the same price range would fit about the same."
"Oh really? You mean like all sofas in the same price range fit the same?"
Why did I waste my time driving 250 miles and trying on anything? I told her to buy whatever she wanted, and when she was through I'd get my own glider.
You can imagine what this little bit of nuclear one-upsmanship produced: fear. Fear I'd do it. Fear in the middle of her chosen works, her tastefull living room, an island of deviance would squat; munk.
munk