That Little Blue Box

Stedman and I do a pretty good job of staying connected during the work day. We like to check in with each other to see how the day is going. So thank God for cell phones. Without them, how would Ross know that omigod someone is clipping their fingernails two cubes down from me, or, guess where Brangelina adopted a kid from today?? Our little exchanges are critical, as you can see. And it doesn’t just stop at little sound-bites from our days – sometimes there are even photos!

Last week Ross sent me a series of photos via text that went a little something like this:

(Commence inner monologue)

What the what?!

Am I awake?

…am I in a montage from Love Actually?

Will there be hand-written signs?

Whoa, Whoa, Whoa – how am I supposed to wear that?

Turns out Ross’ company had sold some really impressive number of widgets or zip-zorps or thingamajigs and by golly they were celebrating with engraved precious metal! In other words, that box was not holding this.

Later that night Stedman and I had a little chat about what a Tiffany box striptease does to a woman – and that he should think twice before sending such graphic photos.

Those things’ll come back to haunt ya.



One thought on “That Little Blue Box

  1. omigod, my heart started beating faster and faster as I scrolled down. I literally laughed out loud when I got to the end. But I am truly sorry for your “ugh-it’s-not-a-necklace” moment.

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