Several weekends ago, I fell in love with Pedro, a giant metal chicken. Confusing my wants with those of my husband (ah, marriage), I became convinced that the 500Jerk spouse would love Pedro as deeply as I did, possibly wrapped under the 2008 Christmas tree. My trusty sidekick, Miss M, an unusually sage seven year-old, was less convinced of Pedro’s universal allure. Skeptical, even.
So I took the hub to visit Pedro. Indeed, he did seem slightly less enamored of a three and a half foot tall rusty metal chicken than I would have anticipated.
So what did I do?
I bought Pedro for me. FOR ME ME ME. And I love him, I truly do.
But I'm getting worried about my ability to pick out a present for my husband.
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