Monday, September 12, 2005

If My Wife Orders One More Piece of Crap from the Harriet Carter Catalog, I’m Outta Here


OK that’s it! I swear, if that woman orders one more piece of crap from the Harriet Carter catalog, I’m outta here! I mean it, I’ll pack up that dad-blamed Rolling Leather Satchel (pg. 82) and I’ll hit the road!

It’s not like I had a great deal of expectations about my retirement. I was just looking forward to spending my later years with the wife at home, none of that “jetting off to Paris” or “getting an RV” idiocy for me! And it was working out pretty well too, until that damn Harriet Carter catalog showed up in the mail. Now, my wife has always been a sensible woman, but she just fell in love with this thing. She oooo’ed and ahhhh’ed over all the items. When I looked, all I saw was a bunch of junk you’d have trouble unloading at a garage sale, and I told her so. She just smiled and I thought that was that.

I should have realized what was going on when my birthday arrived soon after and I received a pair of Farting Slippers (pg. 99). They are slippers with Old Fart printed on the top and some whoopee cushion contraptions in the heels. They fart as you walk. Hilarious dear. A real gut buster. OK, so, one bad gift, no big deal right?

Then, gradually, more Harriet Carter junk started appearing around the house, an Adjustable Tilt Top Table (pg. 53) to bring that nursing home feel right to our own bedroom. A fake Security “Camera” (pg. 83) which is suppose to scare off really dumb thieves who a.) wouldn’t notice it was made out of cheap plastic and b.) would still want to brake in after they saw the house was full of Harriet Carter merchandise. The last straw came when I saw the wife putting a Tree Face (pg. 7) on the oak out front, to make it look like one of those talking trees from the Wizard of Oz! Good God, now she wanted to advertise to the neighborhood that she’d lost her mind!

I’ve taken to intercepting the mail now so she can’t get her hands on a new edition. If this keeps up the only Harriet Carter item that will come in handy around here is the Memory Frame (pg. 88) for grave sites. She’ll be able to use it for my photo after I die of embarrassment. All I can say is Harriet Carter better hope she doesn’t run into me, because she’s gonna get an earful, let me tell you! And while I’m at it, let me tell that jerk Miles Kimball that the same goes for him!

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10 Comments:

Blogger OldRoses said...

She has great kids' stuff, though. I was a big customer when my daughter was young.

8:01 PM  
Blogger fallenmonk said...

You know Doc they put something very similar on the dog when he was fixed to keep him from licking you know what. Maybe this is a hint.

3:27 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

For my husband, all slippers are farting slippers.

4:14 AM  
Anonymous Snake said...

Thanks for the warning, Doc. I'll try to keep those damn catalogs out of my house & away from my wife.

6:13 AM  
Blogger TC Byrd said...

Hey, Doc. Greggypoo from over at the Hattie's Blog thanks you for the chiante!

1:20 PM  
Blogger DrMax said...

No prob TC. Saw your blog, glad he got the box. I included things for you too in there, so make sure he shares. Good luck with clean-up, hope things feel more normal each day.

2:18 PM  
Blogger Grace said...

Scary because it's so true. Used to get care packages of stuff like this from my mom when I was in college. Once I couldn't even figure out what one item was for. My roommate volunteered that it was some sort of, ahem, self-pleasuring device. I almost fainted in mortification because it was anatomically possible. Turns out it was just some gizmo to help relieve my chronic writer's (and keyboardist's) cramp.

9:16 PM  
Blogger Herge Smith said...

Farting slippers are the best, and something you can always pass the blame onto, if you don't have a doggie that is.

4:34 AM  
Blogger Sylvana said...

There was a catalog company around here that was really popular in my home town. They just went out of business not too long ago. If it weren't for my brain damage, I could tell you the name of the damn place. Oh, well. Can't wait until I retire and can't remember my own name.

12:45 PM  
Blogger Lori said...

Just popped in and saw this post....Thanks for the laugh!!!

Have a good day!!!

9:35 AM  

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