When we were invited to an old college friend’s wedding, my husband Max snapped, ‘I’m not going!’ The plan was for him to take the kids out while I attended.
After getting my hair and makeup done, I came home to change — ONLY TO FIND MY CAR AND THE WEDDING GIFT GONE. The kids said dad had rushed off after a call. That’s when I realized — he took my car and went to the ceremony.
I was furious … but then I remembered one detail Max did not know.
Thirty minutes later, he called, shouting, ‘WAS THIS YOU ?! HOW DID YOU MAKE ….’
“…HOW DID YOU MAKE IT EXPLODE?!”
I calmly put the phone on speaker and took a sip of my wine. “Make what explode, honey?”
“THE BOX! THE GIFT! I walked right up to the groom, shook his hand, and handed him the box. He opened it right there in front of his parents and… GLITTER. EVERYWHERE.“
I started laughing so hard I nearly choked. “Oh, that box? That wasn’t the wedding gift, Max. I mailed their check last week. That box was the prank gift I rigged for my brother’s bachelor party. It’s a spring-loaded glitter bomb. Did you really hand that to the groom?”
There was a silence on the other end, followed by the sound of furious scrubbing.
“It’s pink,” he hissed. “It’s ultra-fine pink glitter. And it’s on the Pastor.”
“Well,” I said, “You wanted to be the center of attention. Enjoy the spotlight.”
I hung up. Don’t steal my car next time.
