I have hubby trained to call me when he is on the way home from work each day. Not because I really care if he has left work or not, or because I miss the sound of his voice when we’re apart, but because I need time to hide the evidence.
What evidence?
ALL evidence! Evidence that may convict me in divorce court one day if he ever drags me there.
For example, the Tiffany Style Wisteria Table Lamp I ordered from the Home Shopping Channel. It was 60% off for two days only. I had to have it!
Up to five years ago I didn’t know what a Tiffany Style lamp was, then my sister showed me hers, and now I am obsessed with them. I have a dragonfly lamp, a butterfly lamp, a chicken, Aladdin Lamp and now a Wisteria table lamp.
I have a deal with the mailman. If he sees my husband’s truck he cannot deliver any bag or box. He goes along with it too... I think he is afraid of me.
I put my new lamp on top of the piano and strategically placed dust and cat fur around it. This makes the lamp look like it has been there for years. Then I cut the box up and put it in the recycling bin and shred the bill. I chop up the Styrofoam and burry it in the bottom of the garbage bucket and throw the contents of the kitchen garbage bucket on top of it.
It is all executed with the precision of a Navy Seal operation.
My ring from eBay came today. The mailman always delivers the mail before three o’clock so the kids don’t see anything either.
The ring is beautiful. It’s big and gold coloured with cubic zirconias all over it. I look like Joan Collins on the set of Dynasty when I wear it. It was only $10. I don’t know where I will wear it. Maybe out walking the dog.
The box is already hid in the recycling bin and the paperwork already shredded.
The mailman and I have worked out a system. He checks for hubby’s truck. I watch for him from the kitchen window. We give each other the signal. If he has a box or parcel, he rings the bell twice to let me know there’s a package in the mailbox. Why? Because the Postman always rings twice.
I get enough time to admire my latest acquisition and discard the evidence before hubby comes home.
If I get caught up admiring my latest adventure, hubby calls to warn me, or tell me “I am on the way home.” Sometimes he’ll say “Why are you in such a rush to get rid of me? What are you up to?”
And I’ll brush him off and say “Don’t be so foolish.”
As soon as I hang up the phone I go into Ninja mode. Chopping up boxes, shredding paper faster than a White House intern, hiding evidence.
For the record, the best place to hide evidence…. Is in plain sight.
People always look under couches, in drawers, on top of closet shelves. No one ever sees what is in front of their face.
Then fifteen minutes later he comes through the door. “Something looks different. It’s brighter in here. What did you do?”
“Oh, I moved the Wisteria lamp from the table in the basement upstairs and put it on the piano. I think it looks nicer there.”
He stares at it for a few seconds. “It looks ok I guess.”
He hangs his coat in the closet than walks back toward me and my new lamp. “I never noticed it in the basement.”
“It was on the table next to the bathroom” I lied.
Hubby is a retired police officer and hard to fool but I am an expert at evidence tampering and no match for him.
“I must dust this piano off. The lamp already has cat hairs on it.” He is still looking at me with that “What is she hiding?” look.
Evidence has blended in nicely.
Operation Wisteria complete.
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