J: Did you get your mail?
H: Um, no, I guess not, since I have no idea what you're talking about.
J: In your mailbox! You didn't see something from [insert name of Large Telecom Company here]?
H: I did, but I thought it was a mailer.
J: (laughing)
Upon re-examining large, white envelope from Large Telecom Company, realized that was A) not postmarked and B) not addressed to anyone. With J on the line, opened large white envelope to find color print of new, favorite random celebrity, Terry Tate, Office Linebacker. Print features Mr. Tate reclining in pool floatation device, wearing leopard print swimwear and sipping a fruity cocktail.
Somewhere between volunteering to lug enormous amounts of my laundry to the center-o-fun that is the laundromat, and offering a massage for this weary and v. whiney gal, J threatened that he had a present for yours truly.
H: (in fit of giggles) Is this my present?!
J: Yes. Do you like it?
H: Like it?! I love it. My v. own Terry. He's going right next to my computer so I can see him while I work.
Spent v. funny evening doing laundry, eating bad-for-self greasy, fast food and watching taunting So-You-Want-to-Marry-A-Guy-Who's-Not-Really-A-Millionaire. J even did his best to avoid touching any unmentionables and helped to fold...a towel. Yes, just one. But the effort was noted. As was the fact that never did get that massage. Ah well. Are going grocery shopping tonight in preparation for long weekend get-away. Will claim it then.