Since y'all have commented about the picture over my fireplace, I suppose I should tell you how it came to be.
I'm famous for getting an idea in my head and then not shutting up about it until I get what I want. I am rather impatient that way. I'm also rather impulsive, which means that I am known to make ridiculous decisions on a moment's notice just because "I felt like it".
Aunt Chrissy and I were shopping in Bed, Bath, and Freakin' Beyond a while ago for nothing in particular (well, actually we were probably looking for things for her house, but what fun is THAT?), and I spotted a lovely floral painting that I thought would look just fabulous in my bedroom. I loved the fact that it was large and colorful and that it would be the perfect thing to lay my weary eyes on first thing in the morning and last thing at night.
So without any thought process whatsoever, I loaded the thing into the cart (actually, I probably made Aunt Chrissy carry it because that's the kind of girl I am), and headed to the register. Turns out it was on sale so much that they were practically paying me to take it (at least that's my story and I'm sticking to it).
Just as I was feeling all smug and self-satisfied, Aunt Chrissy gives me a look and says "How the hell do you think you're going to get that thing home?"
Silly me. I forgot that Sophia was a little sports car and not, sadly, a flat bed cargo truck. (Sophia was my previous car. She was a navy blue little Cadillac CTS with tan leather interior and I loved her. Yes, I name my cars. Let it go.)
(My current car is named Gia, by the way. I've also had a Birdie, a Beatrice, and an Olive, but those are stories for other days.) Back to our story...
Well, because I have a head like a rock, and because I'm the matriarch of our stupid little family, I made Aunt Chrissy stand there with the painting until I had grunted myself into a full flop sweat trying to figure out how the heck I was going to wedge this thing into the back seat.
Alas, it was not to be.
So we left the painting with the lovely kids at Customer Service and headed to Aunt Chrissy's house to pick up her SUV. (Sadly, this is the vehicle that she rolled four times and planted in a corn field a few years ago during an accident, so we don't have any names for her. We are, however, eternally in her debt and will always think of her fondly.)
We made it back to the store in about five minutes (we live just a mile or so away), and just as I was thinking that this was going to be easy (you can see this coming, can't you?), it started to rain. Hard. Ridiculously big huge fat raindrops that came at us from every direction.
I couldn't quite fit the picture in the back of her SUV properly, so I somehow convinced my grown-ass woman of a sister to get inside, lay on her stomach, and then reach up over and behind her head to hold onto the painting (while laying face down just inches from the pavement)...with the back hatch door wide open.
Let me summarize for you....."Coni Jo, I swear, if I live through this I will never forget that you made me lie face down in the back of my own car while driving home in a rainstorm holding a gd picture that you will probably decide you don't want anyways because you're so freakin' impulsive that you get these stupid hare-brained ideas at the worst possible times and then you involve me because I was stupid enough to be born your little sister and if I weren't related to you you would never dream of asking me to do half of the the stupid things I do for you and why can't we ever go out in the day time when it's not raining and do things like normal adult people who have some damn sense instead of a couple of doofus heads who are dumb enough to do crap that will probably end up with them getting seriously hurt or worse yet they'll ruin some piece of important property and then they'll end up in jail where there will be no television and they won't be allowed to stitch."
And then we got home.
I took the painting out, hung it up in the bedroom and have loved it ever since. I rotate it into the living room a few times a year so that I can enjoy it, and the big ass pear picture that normally hangs over the fireplace doesn't mind going into the bedroom one little bit.
Do you think now would be a good time to tell Aunt Chrissy that I'm thinking about buying a new mattress and box springs?