By Mike Pound
I did it again. Even though I’m a veteran husband, I — once again — fell for one of my wife’s scams.
Think of my wife as Lucy offering me a chance to kick a football, but when I run to kick the ball she pulls it away right before I kick it. So I go flying through the air and land on my back, like Charlie Brown.
On Saturday, our 14-year-old daughter, Emma, was to be at a debate tournament in Neosho until at least 7 p.m. It was my plan to spend part of the day trying to get rid of some of the roughly 978,654,182 leaves in our yard and then spend the rest of the day watching the Kansas State football game. On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the best, I would have rated my plans for the day as a 27.
But then my wife turned into Lucy.
“You know what would be fun?” my wife asked me on Thursday evening.
“Yes,” I said.
“What would be fun is, if you drove me to Kansas City so I could pick up our rugs and pillows at Pottery Barn, and then after we picked them up you could drive me home,” my wife said.
“How would that be fun?” I asked.
My wife didn’t say anything after that, mainly, because she had already left the room.
“Well, I sure told her,” I said to Shilo, our German shepherd. Shilo just yawned.
Friday afternoon, my wife called me at work.
“What did you decide about Saturday?” my wife asked.
“I decided that I didn’t want to go,” I said.
“OK, we’ll leave at about 8:30 in the morning,” my wife said and hung up before I could say anything else.
“I sure told her,” I said to myself. Myself just yawned.
My wife loves to shop at Pottery Barn, although — oddly enough — she has never purchased pottery at the Pottery Barn. I have mixed emotions about Pottery Barn. On one hand, it’s a furniture and furniture accessory store, and, as a male person, I have little interest in furniture or furniture accessories.
On the other hand, there are always plenty of comfortable chairs to nap in while my wife shops. It’s a trade-off.
I like Pottery Barn much better than I like World Market, which is another one of my wife’s favorite Kansas City stores. My wife can spend hours at World Market while I can spend a few minutes looking at the wines they sell and after that I’m done. They have chairs at World Market but they aren’t as comfortable as the chairs at Pottery Barn.
As a reward for agreeing to drive my wife to Kansas City, my wife suggested that we eat lunch at Plaza III, one of my favorite K.C. steakhouses. As restaurants go, Plaza III is a bit pricey for dinner but it’s not too bad for lunch. My wife figured I could be bribed with the prospect of getting on the outside of a bowl of Plaza III steak soup.
My wife was correct.
The way my wife sold the day to me was we would get up to Kansas City at about 10:30 in the morning. We would go to the Pottery Barn so my wife could shop and I could nap in a chair. Then we would go to lunch so I could have steak soup and then we would go home.
“That way you can still watch some of that K-State thing you want to watch,” my wife said.
But as we were walking out the door Saturday morning my wife added something to our itinerary.
“Oh, I forgot, we need to stop by World Market after we go to the Pottery Barn,” my wife said.
I could almost feel the air whoosh by me as my wife yanked the football away and I flew through the air and landed on my back.
Do you have an idea for Mike Pound’s column? Call him at 417-623-3480, ext. 7259, or email him at firstname.lastname@example.org. Follow him on Twitter @mikepoundglobe.