He Is Sour Of Face To the Glad-Hearted Who Are Kindly to Him.

I want a table.
“Whaaaaa…?”
I would like a table, please. Nothing too fancy.
“You’re kidding me, right?” This is the point where I look around like there’s some cosmic joke being pulled on me.
No, I want a table.
“But you were happier than a pig in shit when you got the shelves.”
And I have since learned the error of my ways. It’s too unstable up here and there isn’t enough room.
“But I haven’t put all of them up yet.” This is when I start whining.
There’s no room for the plant or all the pretty crystals and stones you talk about getting and leaving with me. Your Tarot cards are much too high–really, they need to be much closer to me. And where would you put the pyramid you want to get me?
“Er…” Stunned disbelief at all of the basic things I’ve thought about recently in regards to Hwt-Hrw’s shelving units…
I want a table. Sekhmet has a table.
“She’s got a friggin’ box, lady!”
Which is on a table.
“Uh…”
I want a table, please. Not right this second, but very soon. You can buy me the table for Christmas, if you need to.
“Well, honestly, I was going to get you something else!” Devious thoughts. Change of tactic: “We decided to put you up and out of reach of my son, if you recall. He did break your last incarnation here.”
A very unlady-like snort. You know why that happened. And I am the mother of all mothers, honey, I’m not worried about it. Besides, how can he get to know me if I’m so remote? He’s very close with Sekhmet already and I appreciate that, but he should know me better.
Sputtering like Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokel. “But, you were pissed…”
Not really. Anyway, I want a table. Aphrodite has a table.
“I don’t worship that lady! Why do you bring her up?”
We’re friendly. I hear and know what is being done over there.
“Dude and she gets incense and chocolate every day, but I don’t hear you complaining about that!”
That would be because I want my table first, then my ivy plant. After that, we’ll discuss incense.
Stuttering and mumbling. “Well, don’t get your hopes up, but where do you want this magical table?”
Right here. I like it here. And when you get the sheers for your bedroom, it will be just like my old temples! Make the sheers gold and red, please.

And there it sits. Hwt-Hrw wants a table. This conversation happened the night before last. The entire time, I could feel Sekhmet hiding giggles behind my back. I mean, seriously, a table? I just bought the shelves and I lovingly put them up and now, she wants a table. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I wouldn’t want to sit for eternity on a set of decently constructed floating shelves that are hanging at an angle because I can’t figure out what store to go to get brackets to hold them up straight.

And with a table, there will be more room, as mentioned, for various implements I plan on buying for her. I want to buy her a pyramid and a matching offering bowl. I want to buy her the kapet candle that I had found years ago. I want to buy her some incense specifically for her and an incense holder. I want to also give her the ivy plant she so desperately (and annoyingly) goes on about. I want to give her these things because, even though I said I was going to get rid of her–more or less–I can’t do that.

She’s here to stay, whether I like it or not.

Le sigh.

So, I put the table on my Amazon wishlist that will match her shelves and is just like the one The Sister bought Aphrodite. Here’s to hoping that this works out the way Hwt-Hrw has envisioned because, honestly? I don’t see it.

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One thought on “He Is Sour Of Face To the Glad-Hearted Who Are Kindly to Him.

  1. Wow. Um… yeah. That sucks. Sorry to be the one to give her more ammunition! But like you said, there will be more room to give her things. And you can still keep the shelves up so you can add more things to give her as the days go on. Think of them as little extensions of the table! At least then they won’t be a total waste.

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