Pyjama Mysteries


Sometimes, the workings of HRH's mind are a mystery to me. Which is not always a good thing when you're supposed to be co-captains on this battleship through life.

Last Saturday I went to the mall. Unsupervised. Which was not a good idea. An array of sales called out to me. Not only did they know my name, but they were also in tune with my deepest, darkest yearnings and desires. Like, they totally knew that I had secretly been longing to buy HRH a pair of flannel pyjamas. Since winters knocking on our door and this Samoan warrior is freezing his (usually very hot) butt off. So there i was, strolling through the shops, minding my own business when BANG! A 50% off pyjama sale basically attacked me. I was defenceless against its sirensong. Especially when serious men's pyjamas were teamed up with some absolutely stunning PJ's for women. Hot pink and gold ones. With matching fluffy slippers. I paused to remember we were on a very strict NZ budget. But overwhelmed with love and concern for my beloved spouse - I did it. I bought him some warm nightwear. And then some gorgeous ones for me too. Of course. And while i was at it, i had to get these aromatherapy candles that were ALSO on sale. That promised to add a whole new dimension to my bedroom. And then the purchasing experience made me really hungry and so i had to get a hot chocolate with a raspberry cream muffin. But I knew that HRH wouldnt begrudge me some sustenance. Seeing as how I had just bought him some beautiful (and warm) pyjamas. I smiled as i thought about how grateful HRH would be. How touched he would be by my thoughtfulness. Perhaps he would even get a little misty eyed at my devotion to caring for his every need. Sigh...

I was wrong. HRH wasnt ecstatic with joy. Yes, he admitted I was thoughtful. But apparently he would have been far happier if i had remembered that we are living on a strict budget. And cant be wasting money on such frivolous fripperies. $14 for a cocoa and a muffin?! What the hell? Instead of an exuberant reaction to my purchases, I got a brusque request - Please dont buy me anything. Ever again, okay?!

I was suitably chastened. HRH was right. As usual. We are on a BUDGET. I resolved never to be swayed by financial temptation again. This Saturday I went to the mall. To buy a pair of boots. Since this Samoan tropical flower only owns seevae kosokoso. I bought the cheapest pair of winter boots available. $19.95! Score. How thrifty is that!

I proudly took my budget boots home to show HRH. Who was not impressed. Instead of praising my frugality - he said, "What did you buy that cheap crap for? You should never cut corners on footwear. See my running shoes? They cost $295.00. I take good care of MY feet."

Huh?!?

Like i said, the workings of HRH's mind are sometimes a mystery to me. Which I suppose can be a good thing. It ensures this battleship ride is never boringly predictable.

I am certain of one thing though. HRH is usually always right. About everything. Because these new budget boots of mine?

They hurt like hell.