Honey better not!
So there we were last night, sitting watch the news and this commercial comes on. Now, you have to image what my day was like. I took the dog the to the vet’s, my mother to the neurologist’s (I am so blogging about that little trip to the third dimension another time) wrote two guest posts, worked on the files for another business venture, critiqued chapters for one of my favorite author’s, and made dinner – so I’m kind of ready to zone out for a half hour before I have to finish the three last things on my to-do list for the day. Honey is usually awesome when he knows I’m stressed and remains low key. So when it happened I didn’t expect him to participation. But, well, you can be the judge as to how that went. Personally, I laughed my ass off.
There I was watching the forecast when it cut to commercial. I guess I should mention that I barely ever watch TV. I get all my news from social media and if I want a great visual, I pick up book from my TBR mountain. But then there are those times when I’ve been rung through the ringer. You know what I mean? When you want something different to distract you. I call the TV white noise and that’s what I needed just after dinner. So there I was staring at it – the stupid channel – thinking this is crazy. This news guy’s jokes don’t make even make any sense, when it cuts to a commercial for Valentine’s Day.
The byline reads: Buy your girl a basket of chocolate dipped fruit for Valentine’s Day…
I had to read that twice. However, after the horrible Doritos Super Bowl commercial I wasn’t completely shocked. Did you see that one? The Super Bowl commercial, I mean. It was the one where the mother and son had a passive aggressive vibe going on after she brought home groceries to feed the ungrateful ass-wipe. That’s all I’m going to say about that. I’m being kind here, only because it was probably teenage ass-wipes who made that commercial. At least I hope so. Because there were so many things wrong with that ad space, on so many levels, that I’m still wondering who approved it.
But back to the commercial in question. Chocolate dipped fruit on the big V day. Hm… *taps front tooth with index fingernail whilst I contemplate that happening* Yeah. No. Fruit expires pretty fast guys. So there’s me shouting at the TV. “What good is all that fruit to a woman? Are you going to help your significant other – the one you bought the basket for, eat it all? In two days! Forty-eight hours! Seriously? That’s the best and most sexy thing you can up with on V day? Think again, Bucco.”
And there’s Honey, who had been very quiet beside me. He picked up the remote without looking at me and put it to his ear. Then he said, “Hello? Chocolate covered fruit people? I’d like to cancel my basket order please. My girl doesn’t want it. She thinks her Bucco can do better.”
And there I was nodding…damn straight. Until I laughed my butt off because the guy cracks me up. Unless he winds up buying me that fruit basket. Then I’ll be crying. Just you watch…
Riley
