April 30, 2009
I bring out my big 'uns when I want something.
While most of you picture big 'uns as advantageous Double Ds - my big 'uns happen to be big and brown, puppy-dog, heavily-lashed eyes. Always have been. Which is way funny 'cause Spouse and his college cronies used the covert operative phrase “nice eyes” to describe a girl with big you-know-whats.
Isn't it ironic (don't you think) that Spouse would meet and marry someone who's “nice eyes” got her way more than nice boobs would? Just a little ironic. (It's like rain on your wedding day. Or a free ride when you've already paid. Or good advice that you just can't take.)
Incidentally, I'm very much aware that having the upper deck on the chest would get me much more than my turd-colored eyes, but I'm trying to tell a story here.
When I want something, I open the eyes as big as possible, blink and bat those great lashes, tilt the head a few degrees to the left, and raise the eyebrows ever so slightly... all while saying “Plllleeeaaase?”
Sometimes I get what I want. Would you care for an example?
Spouse and I had been married about a month. Running Brother Bruce had a house for sale in his awesome “hood”. How did I know this hood to be so awesome? Because RBB wouldn't shut up about it. “My hood is so awesome. My hood is so great. My hood is all that.” For miles and miles he'd go on and on about his awesome hood.
I wanted a house in that hood.
So when Running Brother Bruce announced a house for sale in his hood, I was all over it. We made an appointment with the real-i-tor and paid a visit. The guided tour of our future mansion met the 80% rule.
What exactly is this 80% rule, I hear you ask? It's my rule that says: Step back, determine if you're 80% happy and go for it! Don't bother the poor muddled brain with details that don't matter. (Isn't it too bad that I cannot use the rule more often? Note to self: Step back and be 80% happy more often.)
Anyway. During the tour, Spouse and I went into the unfinished basement to make-out. Just kidding. He wanted to look at construction stuff – you know, plumbing, heat ducts, whether or not the basement was tall enough for his 6 feet several inches (this was pre-accident, so he was taller).
It was at this time, that I pulled out the big 'uns on him. I looked up, opened those puppy-dog eyes wide, blinked and batted, tilted and raised, then said “Can we buy it? Pllleeeeaaase?”
Grinning, Spouse looked down at me and replied, “Show me your spreadsheet.” Which sounds dirty I know, but it's not. It means, “Show me the numbers in nice neat columns to prove we can afford it.”
And that is the first example of how my big 'uns got me what I wanted. Ready for a second?
Roughly four weeks ago, Spouse came home from work with an announcement. “I'm going to a VMware developer conference in DisneyWorld.” I answered with “DisneyWhat? DisneyWhere? DisneyWho? DisneyWhen?”
Turns out Spouse was going to DisneyWorld during the Yahoo's spring break. Why? To learn how to integrate his fancy software with VMware's fancy software. Sounds dirty, doesn't it? Well it's not, so don't get excited. Picture this instead: Spouse riding coasters with other geeks in Florida while the Yahoos and I bare the fierce winter elements of spring break - which also coincides nicely with the IRS deadline of April 15.
Once again, it was time to bring out the big 'uns. Once again, I did the open wide, blink and bat, tilt and raise, all while saying, “Pllleeeeaasse?”
Once again, Spouse replied with “Show me your spreadsheet.”