Some weeks ago I left the patio umbrella open in a storm. I awoke the next morning to find it quite broken—broken so that no amount of duct tape would fix it. And yes, I tried.
The next week, Danielle was gone, so I told Sean one morning that we were going to buy a new umbrella because ours was broken. Every time we saw an umbrella in a store or at a sidewalk cafe, Sean said, “Umbrella’s broken. Gotta get a new one.” This went on for weeks, because I couldn’t find an umbrella I liked.
Finally, on the advice of a friend, I went to a store in Chesapeake called Garden Ridge. And they had dozens of umbrellas. Cheap. Wood, metal, square, market, tilting, non-. And the best part was that they were only forty bucks. A couple weeks ago I came close to buying one for $250! I can break six of the Garden Ridge umbrellas, and still be ahead!
But that’s not even the best part. The best part is that, as we rolled through the store with the plastic-sheathed umbrella, Sean says, “I love it.”
“You love the umbrella?”
He then gave it a hug.