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I love to mess with my husband.  I don’t know if it’s my inner bully that compels me to do this, or if it’s just because I love watching him squirm.

Whatever the reason, I’m sure I should probably talk to someone about it in a professional environment.

But since my insurance is most likely maxed out on therapy sessions for me, it’s something I won’t ever explore with a licensed therapist.  (I’m pretty sure I’ve used up all my allowable sessions for issues like “Why doesn’t my hair grow past my shoulders?” and “Is Tupac really dead?”)

I’m sure I’m going to hell for the way I treat him sometimes.  But then again, I’m probably going to hell for pretty much everything I did during college, so I figure as long as I’m headed there, I might as well make the best of it while on Earth.

We are getting ready to go on a trip to New York City, and I recently realized we need new luggage.  I don’t mean that our luggage looks a little tattered, I mean that it is missing wheels and if we try to take it through security one more time we are going to be red flagged as terrorists.

Since I was recently placed on the heightened security list due to an unfortunate incident with diarrhea and a sassy TSA official with a power trip and a bathroom key, I knew we couldn’t take any chances with security.  New luggage was a necessity.  National security depended on it.

I headed to the store to find us some luggage that would be more durable than what we had before.  I was interested in the hard top luggage, as it is has a hard exterior shell (kind of like that chocolate liquid you put on ice cream that turns hard when it dries…  Great, now I want ice cream).

The reason I wanted the more durable luggage isn’t so much because I care if it gets destroyed in transit, but mostly because I want something sturdy to sit on while I wait for a cab, and that cloth stuff just isn’t cutting it.  (I think I may have also just found the reason why our luggage wears out so quickly…)

I got to the store and looked at the wide variety of luggage.  There were standard grey and black pieces, but I didn’t want those.  I like to be able to easily identify my luggage as it comes down the baggage carousel and grey and black luggage are the same colors as every other piece of baggage on the machine.

I want ones that really pop.  Our current luggage pops, but not in the way I like.  It literally pops open, which isn’t cool (not to mention that it lets the world know that I sometimes wear granny panties.  Deal with it).

I looked for something with bright colors that would be easily identifiable from a distance.  Nothing heightens anxiety for me more than staring at the baggage drop watching intently while each new piece of luggage drops down the chute.

Sometimes I like to place bets with my husband about which color of luggage will drop next.  Come to think of it, perhaps that gambling thing is another issue I should talk to a therapist about, but will most likely fill a session with questions about what it means that I secretly find Leland from Dog the Bounty Hunter attractive instead.

I looked around and then I saw them.  The perfect two pieces of luggage for us.  They were loud, they were colorful…and they were super girly.  Immediately I knew I must have them.  How could I resist these hearts and flowers?  Um, I couldn’t.

I pulled the luggage around the store to make sure they rolled appropriately and didn’t catch.  (Did you really think I wouldn’t take them for a test drive?)  Because I’m not a totally horrible person, I also grabbed two red pieces of luggage and headed to the check out.

I got home, pulled out the flashy pieces and brought them in the house.  I told my husband I found the perfect pieces of luggage for our trip and asked him to come check them out.  He walked into the room where the eye sores were located.  He stared at the pieces in awe and I swear I saw a tear roll down his face.

“What are these?” he asked, afraid to approach the flashy pieces.

“They were the only hard top luggage in the sizes we needed,” I responded without missing a beat.  “Just don’t look directly at them, as they have a warning label that says they could induce seizures,” I said, trying to make light of the situation.

“Come on.  You’re joking.” He said, as he slowly approached them.  “Where is our real luggage?”

“This really is it.  It’s all they had.  Sorry babe,” I said, trying to sound sincere.  “But if anyone call pull off walking through the airport with these bags, it’s you.” I said, trying to stroke his ego.  I then pulled the luggage into the second bedroom so we could begin using it to pack.  I didn’t look back at him as I didn’t want him to know this was a joke and I wasn’t really planning on using a third grader’s luggage to go on a trip.

I’m planning on revealing the red luggage to him the night before we leave in some dramatic fashion.  I haven’t figured out how I will make the big reveal, but I’m hoping he will be so excited about the new luggage that he won’t even notice my recent shopping spree on new orthopedic shoes.  This plan is perfect.  Let’s just hope he doesn’t read this blog…

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