Tags: drinking, humor, kleptomania, marriage, sarcasm, theft
I think I need a 12-step program. I have a major problem that, no matter how much effort I put into it, I can’t seem to fix.
Big T comes to my office now and then to visit. One afternoon, he popped by and asked us, “Do you have any string or twine or anything around here. I need about 2 feet of it.”
I, forever and always being the helpful & loving wife that I am, say, “Well baby, I have this left over blue ribbon from the bridesmaid bouquets if that’ll work.”
I toss him the ribbon and think nothing else of it. He says he loves me, gives me kisses and goes on his merry little way.
Fast-forward to 5:15pm, when I get home from work. I come in as usual and Big T gives me my hugs and kisses as I head upstairs to start dinner… when it caught my eye…
That ass-munch had duct-taped the ribbon to his lighter that sits on the end table. The other end of the ribbon was inserted into the slate slabs that make the top of the table. It looked like one of those pens that the bank tries to keep safe by chaining them to the teller spots.
Why would he do such a sarcastic thing?
Because I am Diva. I have a problem. I steal lighters.
Yes, my friends, I’m a kleptomaniac.
I found that I am attracted to steal lighters like a monkey will steal your wallet at the circus. It is bad.
How bad is it, you ask. When Big T asked me to empty my jacket pocket and purse, the lighter count was seven (7). Ooops.
Moral of the story is.. Until I get the proper help, if we’re out drinkin’ together, please (please, please) keep your lighter in your pocket or at least come get it back from me.
Consider this fair warning. I can not be held responsible.