When we were shopping for new furniture a year or so ago, Heidi told me in no uncertain terms that we could not buy a white leather couch, no matter how much we liked it in the showroom. "Babe!" she said. "White couches are for old ladies. That's not us."
I thought of that conversation today when we purchased a stuffed winter gnome to join the two I inherited from my mother. Those holiday fellows were just a little too appealing to me to leave to the consignment, and when we opened their box with my mom's handwriting on it a couple of weeks ago, I knew the perfect place for them. Currently, they survey the living room from atop the bookshelf. The new gnome in his gray flannel and buffalo checks is a perfect compatriot for them; he fills the gap up there we never knew we had, and three is a pleasing arrangement.
While shopping, I was appalled to see Valentine's Day decor liberally included in the already clearance-priced Christmasware, but Heidi was transfixed by the pink Valentine gnome and his leftover autumn gnome brother. "We should get a gnome for every season!" she said, a proposal I immediately vetoed.
"You sound like an old lady!" I told her.
"Maybe," she shrugged, "but I don't even care!"
"You must see our gnome collection!" I added in a warbly fake elder voice. "It's adorable."
She shrugged again. "It would be!"
Hahahahaha! I simply must see your gnome collection.
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