#3, actually kind of shameful

Let’s see, it’s Sunday, and I beg forgiveness for number 3.

I have flat out lied to my husband about the cost of plants. He caught on a couple years ago and now busts me on it most of the time. In 20 days I will celebrate my 25th wedding anniversary. I stopped fibbing to him. I used to round down the cost of, say, a tree: “What, that old thing? They were practically giving them away! About $20.” When in fact, I had paid $49.99.

Since I have been dragging him to plant sales and he helps with some installations, he started looking at price tags. Not to mention, I have wholesale availability lists gathered in a big fat binder on the desk with a cover that says “WHOLESALE AVAILABILITY LISTS AND PRICES, 2007.” Hmmmm, that 2″ caliper October Glory maple was HOW MUCH? Uuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh. Did you look it up, darling? Sweetest of voices.

Now shoes, that’s another story. They just go quietly in the closet. The Nordstrom box is discreetly disposed of, one day I will wear them and he can’t remember if he saw them or not and he’s stopped asking.

But is he EVER pissed about the hot tub that was delivered last Wednesday. Used, $500, like new, and no where to hide. And I bartered for it. So there. He’s still cranky. Gotta work the skirt now.