Thursday, July 23, 2015
We have a lot of blank wall space in our home. It's hard for me to choose decorations, because Regis and I don't always like the same things, and, more importantly, he won't always tell me when he doesn't like something. (I asked him the other day, as he was cleaning out our shower drain, "Don't you miss the days when I had barely any hair?" His only response was, "No comment." Huh.) We've discussed adding pictures, and he always says that we should put up some more pictures of our family. So, assuming that representations of family members was safe, when we noticed that taking down our Christmas tree leaves a big empty space in our living room, I came up with the perfect solution: Let's put in a statue--of ME! Regis laughed, and when he saw I was semi-serious, said, "That would be weird." Taking this in its most charitable form, I declined to take offense and instead took to the internet, polling my Facebook friends on the acceptability of my scheme. I got so many inquiries on whether this would be a nude statue that I finally abandoned the idea. Either nobody thought I was serious, or my friends think (incorrectly) that I have sufficient sangfroid to discuss gospel topics with our home teachers while simultaneously reposing naked in a corner.