Yes, the iPad arrived. In all its white-packaged glory. Fully engraved.
My artist wife had a profitable year in her business and had ordered this new tool to support the digital end of her business. Unfortunately (for her), the shipment was delayed 4-6 weeks because she ordered engraving.
I enjoyed the intervening weeks. The lack of status updates on its delivery. The crucible of the unknown delivery date weighing heavily. The smug glances I tossed across the living room as a result.
Sadly, on this day, the smug glances would end.
She received the email notification early that morning.
“It’s coming today,” she said to me from her blue easy chair in the corner of our living room, her left leg tucked under her right.
“What’s coming?” I asked, wondering what she had bought this time.
“My iPad!” she responded, incredulous that she had to tell me.
The thought — “$3,000?!?! For an iPad?” — flashed back to my mind faster than my jaw had hit the floor the day she told me.
The thought — “$3,000?!?! For an iPad?” — flashed back to my mind faster than my jaw had hit the floor the day she told me. My mind immediately refreshed itself on the sordid saga of this Apple moneymaker and my less-than-magical reaction.
She waited all day for the delivery driver to arrive at our suburban, Prairie doorstep.
The minutes ticked by, turning, for her, into agonizing hours. It’s not as though she hadn’t been waiting for weeks at this point. What’s another hour? Two? Four?
For me, these last hours were my last few moments to sneak in the last few serves-you-right glances.
She had put up with the glances for weeks (bless her heart). And I had known to leave the obvious unsaid.
But now the hour was close at hand. I couldn’t help myself.
“I hope the engraving was worth it,” I blurted out, testing whether my since-recovered jaw would allow my foot to fit back into my mouth.
The unamused look in her suddenly icy blue eyes confirmed that, yes, my foot fit back in there. And the length of that unamused look also confirmed that I shouldn’t double down lest those eyes turn stone cold.
This $3,000 iPad was something magical. That’s for sure.
Days later, as the crystal white packaging lay next to her blue easy chair and her icy blue eyes had returned to their gentle softness, I worked up the courage to ask how it was going.
“Hashtag: Worth it,” she said, but also admitted that, “Next time, I won’t get the engraving.”
Wait. Next time?
I don’t think my jaw will survive a “next” magical purchase. Sorry Apple.
Hahahaha!
Loved reading this. You truly have a great way with words