The Ex Box
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My daughter The Spare turned 15 yesterday. It's hard to see her so grown up. On the other hand, we have a lot of fun together. She has a wicked sense of humor. I wonder where she got it?
The Spare rarely lacks attention from the opposite sex. Usually there's some young fellow skulking around, smiling shyly at Mr. Johnson and me, hoping we can't read his thoughts (which of course we can).
The most recent "main squeeze" gave The Spare a necklace for her birthday. It's a pretty little silver heart, rather tasteful at that. But it was on a very long chain that hung down to her waist.
So yesterday morning, The Spare said to me, "Will you go down in the basement and get the box where I put all the stuff from my other relationships?"
Laugh if you will, reader, but one of the things in that box is a ball of silk mistletoe ... which came in mighty darned handy when we had a Solstice Ritual and the person who had the real mistletoe couldn't make it due to inclement weather.
I retrieved The Spare's box of loot from her exes. It was surprisingly large, until I discovered that she had put a few dancing dresses in there, along with the various trinkets and poetry and such. And the aforementioned mistletoe.
Ready for the punchline?
I went into The Spare's room and said ... "Here's your Ex-Box."
We both laughed. She found a shorter chain from another discarded necklace, put her new silver heart on the shorter chain, and strutted off to school.
It's strange. I've never bought a computer gaming system for my daughters. But one of them still managed to get an Ex Box. I hope it becomes a great big carton before the exes give way to someone for the long haul.