I have an Umbrella Center in my front hall closet. It sounds impressive, but it’s actually a tote bag suspended from a coat hanger. At any rate, it used to be full of umbrellas. Nice ones. Today, on my way out into the pouring rain, I reached into the Umbrella Center, and came up empty. All I felt in there was a single shoe bag and a single glove.
You probably think I lost all those umbrellas, don’t you? Well, take that finger and point it at my husband. He is an umbrella stealer of the worst kind.
One by one, he’s taken every one of my prized umbrellas to work and left it there.
I thought I had a smart solution: I started buying really girly umbrellas. But I’ve discovered that no umbrella is too girly for Steven. I’ve tried every pattern, every color scheme, each time thinking, “he wouldn’t be caught dead carrying this one.” I was wrong.
He even took my rainbow umbrella. Rainbow.
This morning, he took my pink flowered one. I thought, I’d have to buy an umbrella with dancing penises on it for him to leave it here. But you know what? Even that wouldn’t work. Not even if the penises were frolicking with Hello Kitty.
I have to hand it to my husband. He is confident in his masculinity. I mean, this is a man who wore an ascot on our first date. He’s not afraid of femme accessories.
But I know what he is afraid of: anything ugly. So, today, I think I finally outsmarted him. I bought a big, ugly black umbrella made by Totes. The tag says, MEN’S GOLF UMBRELLA.
That should do the trick.