Orchid Butt

Recent-ish-ly I linked to a long-ago post about my husband that contained these two nuggets:

1. He cranks the heat so high in the van that I think he is secretly raising orchids in there. (Very hardy orchids, that can withstand the freezing temperatures they are subjected to during the other 167 hours in the week.)  He has always liked it to be 158 degrees in the car.  I asked him about this early in our marriage:  How come I'm always hot in the car, when you're cold, and I'm always cold in the house, when you're hot?  He explained:  That's because I'm normal, and you're a space alien.


2. The memory still makes me laugh so hard I have to stop typing for a minute.  I wish I could duplicate the delivery for you, because it doesn't look that funny, I know, but it was hilarious.

In September we acquired a new van. Well, it's a 2004 van but it's new to our family. It has heated seats. Elwood is a fan. Every time I sit where he sat last, I find myself sweating and loosening clothing because he keeps turning on the seat-heater. I think, "WHERE, exactly, does he want those orchids to grow? Down the legs of his PANTS?"

So if you are driving around my town and you see a woman with her head stuck out the window, yodeling "ORCHID BUTT AGAIN!" -- I hope you'll wave.