My Husband’s Secret Part II

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A couple of months ago, I posted a story about my husband stealing borrowing-forever my daughter’s iPod. That story can be found here, and I still find it funny.

Well, folks… He was found out.

It was hilarious.

My daughter came to me immediately after reading my story a few days after it was posted.

She began pacing my bedroom and talking to herself.

“Why didn’t I notice it before?” She shrieked. My husband was at work at the time of this outburst. I got to witness it all by myself. Sometimes I wonder how I get to be so lucky.

She told me she had observed some weird things when her iPod would sync to her iPhone while she was on the iPhone’s internet. She would think:

“Why is it synced?”

“It must have gotten enough power to turn itself on.”

“Why is it looking at fantasy football?” This one makes me laugh the hardest. Just imagining her thinking that her iPod was turning on all by itself to look at Fantasy Football is one of my heart’s delights.

The questions she asked herself were actually funnier than the secret.

I dissolved into tears.

Of mirth.

Which made her angrier.

And made me laugh harder.

“How did it take me so long to figure it out???” I deduced it was probably a bad time to tell her that she hadn’t really figured it out, so much as I told her about it. Let’s keep the emphasis on the criminal and not on the snitch.

She wanted to confront him right away, but I convinced her that there was absolutely no fun in that. No glory.

Bide your time.

Let me watch.

The questioning continued:

“Was I sleeping when this happened?

How did he do it?

When did he do it?

It works for him. He seems so innocent.”

“Brawhhhhaaaaahaaaahaaahaaa!” Went my soul after each indignant pronouncement.

Seriously, I was worried. My eyes would not stop streaming from the river of amusement.

Then the realization: “HE BROKE IT! I can’t believe he dropped it!”

I tried to assure her that this was all very funny. I am not positive that she found it as comical as I did.

We came up with a plan.

“Say nothing to him today.” I told her. “He has been on guard since the post went up. Pretend you didn’t see it.”

We hatched a brilliant scheme to confront him. But we are both terrible at secrets… Unlike my husband, apparently.

My husband came home and my daughter very innocently asked him where her iPod was.

His face briefly looked scared, but he recovered. “Hmmmm. I think it is on your dresser charging. Did you look there?” Then, the master thief that he is, went and patted his pocket in reassurance. The iPod was very clearly forming an obvious rectangle of deceit through the cloth of his shirt.

“DAD!”

“I know. I know you took my iPod. I know you broke it.”

The thief had the nerve to start laughing.

This enraged the victim.

“Why? Why would you take it?”

“Because you weren’t using it. It just sat there for months and you never even picked it up. Besides, I bought you an iPhone and that is better.”

“But I have been looking for it!”

This back and forth exchange went on for a while. I grew weary of it.

Let’s skip to the end…

My daughter begrudgingly agreed that she was not using the iPod and that my husband could keep it.

This has not, however, kept it from being a source of merciless teasing from all of us whenever my husband is using the iPod or we think he is being sneaky.

“Oh? So, you didn’t take the last of the cheesecake? Is this like how you didn’t take the iPod?”

“Oh? You didn’t drop it? Is this like how you didn’t drop the secret iPod?”

Seriously, it never gets old. Just ask my husband. Actually, he is usually listening to his secret music on his secret iPod with his not so secret headphones, so he probably doesn’t hear any of it anyway. Which means he created, executed and got away with the perfect crime.

The crook is remorseless.

And oddly fond of the hot device.

The other day we were driving to the airport. We had just finished packing for our flight home. Our vacation was over. Suddenly, my husband panicked.

“I think I forgot my iPod in the hotel room! I think I left it charging!”

“You mean your secret iPod?” I couldn’t help razzing as he could finally hear me without the headphones.

He ignored me and pulled over. He began rummaging through our bags in a frenzy of anxiousness.

I tried to reassure him. “Honey. Even if you left it there, no one would want that iPod except for you.”

“I know. But we have go back and get it.”

Of course we do.

He is very attached to his criminal souvenir.

Thankfully, at that moment, he pulled the sad shattered totem from a carry-on bag and resurrected the poor item to its place of honor in his pocket.

“I found it!” He triumphantly declared.

Oh honey.

We all know that is not true…

That iPod was never lost.

It.

Was.

Stolen.

Reading: “The Storyteller”

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For our book club last month, sweet Kathy picked, “The Storyteller” by Jodi Piccoult.

Now, if you have read my book reviews before, you might have picked up on the fact that I have some bitter feelings in regards to Ms. Piccoult’s novels. I stopped reading them a long time ago. I usually do not like how she sucks you in and then kicks you in the heart, leaving you to smear the pages you have witnessed with tears and regret. I will never forgive her for “My Sister’s Keeper.” Never.

And, “The Pact.” There was a line in that book that has stuck with me for almost fifteen years. It describes the mother of a teenage son smelling his breath and trying to recall when it was that he lost the mellow milky smell his breath used to carry in his youth. In doing so, she created an obsession in me to determine the exact moment that this would occur in my own children. So I would know. So I could answer that question. I believe the answer is nine. Nine years old, Ms. Piccoult. Thanks for the memories. And my creepy habit.

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But I had this book. I had purchased it at Costco months before, because a different friend had mentioned she might choose it for her book pick. She didn’t and I would stare at it with resentment when I would walk by it.

The title was so intriguing. “You,” I would think. “So, what story are you going to tell me? How is this one going to end?” I had a vision of me ugly crying, snot pouring down my face and the book being hurled across the room. Only to break a picture frame and in turn break my heart again.

Oh, yes, me and that book were becoming old adversaries.

Because, here is the thing: Jodi Piccoult. Well, she is an amazing writer. The stories she can spin. She is the master of human emotions. That book was a drug. And I needed it, but did not want it.

However, it was chosen. And I had it. So, I read it.

And once again, Jodi Piccoult sucked me in.

The book (yes, we are finally going to discuss it. Excuse my theatrics getting to it) will grip you from the beginning and not let you go.

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It starts with a fictional story and then quickly steps into the present day life of a young baker, Sage, who hides from the world. She thinks the scar on her face shows the world the monster hiding inside of her. It is her story, but also the story of an old man. At 95 years old,”Josef” asks Sage to kill him. And so we enter Josef’s story. And in doing so, we enter the world of the holocaust. And the questions begin: What is forgiveness? How far would each of us take it? What is the true definition of survival? And are all humans merely monsters in disguise?

Of course, I cried. I sobbed:

Page 296 did me in. I finally caved in to the sobbing at the hopelessness of the situation.

And on page 357, I cried again in relief. In anger. Why did it take so long?

I was dreading the ending. I knew there would be a twist, as there always is in her books. And I did not want to take that turn. But I did.

And guess what? I loved it! Oh, it was brilliant. It was genius. And perfect. And dark. Jodi Piccoult won me over with this story of hers. It is one of the best novels I have read in a very long time. My heart hurt, but it was still whole.

I highly recommend it.

Have you read “The Storyteller”? Did you like the ending? Did you agree with Sage’s decision? Try not to leave any spoilers, please. I do not want to ruin anyone’s experience. But you can definitely email me to discuss.

Our next book club pick is “Eleanor & Park” by Rainbow Rowell. Just in case you want to read it and discuss in a month. I ordered my copy, buy have not received it yet.