Since no one bothered to ask…

Did you see that massive picture hanging over our “dining room” table?

Let’s back up a minute, shall we?

Mr. French buys all the pictures for our walls. End of story. I entered this marriage inheriting more pictures than anyone I knew even possessed. We’ve since bought more.

But, here’s the kicker.

We didn’t bring any with us to Texas.

I know. And that would be the second time we’ve done that.

But fear not. Mr. French, as only Mr. French would, procured a new picture for himself.

And let me say one more thing. There is no way on earth I would’ve done what Mr. French did to procure this picture.

NO way.

But only because I’m a chicken and not because it’s illegal or anything. (just wanted to clarify.)

So, we’re looking on Craig’s list for a used washer and dryer. And boy, is that a story for another day. Like when someone tells you they’re “right at Hwy 1604 and something exit” but they’re, in fact, three miles off 1604 and something exit and also on some no-name pot-holed dirt road in some backwoods industrial park place with a bunch of old washers and dryers out in the elements behind the shop….but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

After one time too many spent at the laundry mat and on the phone with used-washer/dryer salesmen, we finally found someone who seemed legitimate. So we drove over to his place. He showed us the two sets he had to offer. He was a roof repair guy and would often pick them up when people were getting rid of them, to make a few bucks by selling them. Fair enough.

As we’re leaving, Mr. French stops to ask him about this picture hanging on the wall behind their kitchen table. The man tells us about how someone was selling it really cheap at a garage sale and he comes home with it and his wife likes it. He shrugs his shoulders.

“I really like that painting.” says Mr. French.

I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t.

We get back in the car and leave. We’re barely out of the neighborhood when Mr. French and I decide to buy one of the washer and dryer sets. Mr. French calls and sets up a time with the guy. Then he gets off the phone.

“Can I tell you something, but you have to not get mad.”

Now why did he have to add that on there?


“I just don’t want you to put the idea down before you’ve heard it.”

“Just tell me.”

“What if I asked if I could buy that picture?”

Heavy sigh.

“He can always just say no, right?”

But he said, “Yes.”



Filed under Everyone's an interior designer, Mr. French, This is going to be really funny one day

3 responses to “Since no one bothered to ask…

  1. Esther

    You know, I did actually notice that photo, and I thought, “Wow, Mr. French (except I didn’t call him that) and his pictures–count on him to make sure they actually brought art with them to Texas.”

    I have to say, it hadn’t occurred to me that he would have bought more. 🙂

    I do think it’s a pretty picture, though.

    Your second photo isn’t working for me, by the way.

  2. redchampagne

    That’s funny. I sometimes think “Mr. French” if I’m going to refer to him in an e-mail, but I not in real life. Yet.

    I was thinking, when I was writing this, “if you don’t know about Mr. French and his pictures, then you don’t know Mr. French.”

    Um, both pictures still show up for me. Not sure what to think.

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