Confessions

"I went to the Exclusive Co. and got this," Dave said as he walked into work today, handing me Wilco's "Sky Blue Sky." Awesome. I've been streaming it live and loving it.

"I also got this one." He handed me "Venus" from We Are The Fury. "It was used!"

"OK," I said, stacking them next to my computer. And that was that. Two CDs from the guy who kept up his end of the "no CDs, no purses" buying moratorium for like, five months. I was so proud. And he only bought two! And it was one we both liked! And the other was used -- read: cheap, super cheap!

About four hours later, we walked in the house on our dinner break. I was holding Mr. Big above my head and saying "Mi-ster Biiii-ig!" and generally being my own embarrassing self, when Dave broke down.

"OK, OK, I can't lie to you," he said. I brought Big down from his six-foot high position to rest on my hip. Dave was sounding like I'd caught him cheating on me, and had been threatening to rip his fingernails out with rusty pliers if he didn't confess.

"What?"

"I got two other CDs. I couldn't help it! And, and one was another used one! It's been so long! I'm sorry!"

And really, what I was thinking was not "kill Dave" or even "give him the mean face." Instead, I was thinking "PURSE! Finally! I won the staring contest and now I am rewarded with a guilt-free purse purchase!" (Right? Isn't how that works?)

"It's OK," I said.

"I waited five months!" The man was still hysterical.

"I know. I'm proud of you," I said, letting Big outside.

"So does this mean I'm back to step 8?" he asked, a throwback to my (fake but oft-refered to) Husband Improvement Plan. And all I could think about was "I hope the purse is something summery and big. With a zipper. And inside pockets! Lots of them!"

And this is why this smart couple will never be rich.