The Boss of Everything took me to Captain’s Mast and awarded restriction and extra duties for forty-five days, reduction in rate, forfeiture of half a month’s pay, and I had to take her shopping.
Arrrgghh. Shopping: root canal without Novocain, Going through a shipyard with one chipping hammer whamming away on every square foot of hull outside and others working every single square foot of every interior bulkhead in each and every one of the 3500 compartments of an aircraft carrier. It knocks your fillings out. Shopping’s worse. But I’d been busted. Sigh.
So I drove her to the mall. Willie hadn’t convinced her that forgiving me should be easy. I tried another tactic. I complained, whinged, and whined a precisely calculated amount. I wanted her to know she got to me with the cruel and unusual punishment, but I didn’t want to overdo it. Mr. Moderation working his plan.
She shopped. I stayed in the car and worked on a story. Then we went to lunch. At a place where shoppers eat. My napkin was wrapped with a paper ring that had “I love you more than bacon,” printed on it. I took the ring and put it on her finger. She smiled at me and gave me a piece of bacon off her sandwich.
Forgiveness and bacon, it was better than any of the lunch “two fers” on the menu, like a cup of tomato bisque and half an alfalfa sprouts wrap.