We made a trip into Texas yesterday to finally get things straightened out with the company that did the pictures of our grandkids for Chris' Christmas present. They sure recognized Chris when we walked in. You'd think they saw a lot of her last week. Before we could even say what we wanted, the manager said she was working up a copy of the voucher for a refund and she was going to mail it, but since we were there we could just take it with us. Good start. Chris then said we never received the promised CD of all the pictures we had taken. Ah. That must have been left in the evil computer that refused to let it go back on Friday. She assured us that bad boy would receive a talking to. Then Chris showed them the three pictures that cut off Caleb's feet. Of course it was all the printer's fault. Of course. Computers and printers can't talk. It must have been their fault. We didn't care whose fault it was, we just wanted some reprinted correctly. They said the offending machine was warming up and they would get right on it if we wanted to go run some errands.
After a brief stint walking around in Michael's, the only thing open at 9:00, we headed back over. The manager was leaving as we arrived, and she said the prints were coming out right then. Well, it wasn't right then. We still had to wait another five minutes, but the pictures did look fine this time. They handed me the envelope and said goodbye. But the envelope had only the three new photos and the CD in it. We had handed them the entire package. "Oh, sorry. It must still be sitting on the desk back there." There you go. Now it's the desk's fault. Sure enough, that ol' desk had hidden the package right there on top. On a whim, Chris asked what they planned to do with the rejected pictures. The lady handed them to her and said, "You can have them. We would just throw them away." We finally headed home, relieved to finally have this excursion behind us. But when we got home we discovered that our copy of the bill was not in either package. I suspect that the cash register must have been hungry.
Mom had a doctor's appointment in the afternoon. I waited until they were gone, and then I put our Christmas stuff back into the attic. Fourteen or fifteen boxes plus the Christmas tree box. That's a load of stuff. And it's not all that easy any more. What's up with that? When Chris got home she started telling me what all the doctor had said. All of a sudden, literally in mid-sentence, she jumped up from her chair and disappeared into the kitchen. She came back into my office, sat down, crossed her arms, and in a quiet voice, she screamed at me. Yes, wives know how to do that – scream quietly. All she said was, "You put the decorations up." Of course I played dumb – not all that difficult for me. "I just wanted to surprise you," was the best I could come up with. Sounded quite romantic, I thought. All it got me, though, was "The Look." It's great to have someone who really cares about my back and neck and joints more than I do. I love that woman.
Isaiah 44:6-7 says, "This is what the Lord says — Israel's King and Redeemer, the Lord Almighty: I am the first and I am the last; apart from me there is no God. Who then is like me? Let him proclaim it. Let him declare and lay out before me what has happened since I established my ancient people, and what is yet to come — yes, let him foretell what will come."
Father, how many times can I say thank you for the great wife you gave me? Not enough. Amen.
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