The Honey-Do List

[Lizard]

__________________________________________________ ______
Forward

I've debated whether to post this as a blog, or as a
serial (installment) story. As it is non-fiction, and
ongoing, the decision was not obvious, but I've decided
to post it as a serial assuming that the readership will
be greater than as a blog. As you read, you will
understand that I am not in control of events which are
accounted for here and the next installment will come
when it does. Please have patience -- if it were up to
me there'd be a new chapter each day!
__________________________________________________ ______


THE HONEY-DO LIST

Somewhere, hidden in my wife's things, there is a jar.
The jar, and old peanut butter jar I think, contains a
bunch of folded bits of paper. In that jar you might
expect to find a collection of "honey-do" household
tasks for me to accomplish, but my wife's "honey-do" jar
contains dares.

As it tickles her fancy, my wife will pull a dare from
the jar and present it to me with instructions like
"while I'm off having lunch with my mum tomorrow, you
need to see to this task." For me, just holding the
paper is enough to start the butterflies in my stomach.
Once she presents me with the paper I like to stew a
bit, and usually do not open it until the next morning;
sleeping like a child on Christmas eve waiting who
wonders what Santa might leave in their sock.

For the record, I am male, old enough to know better
(over 21) and married (if that wasn't obvious already).
What follows are my accounts of how each "honey-do"
played out.



THE MALL

Last night, as I was getting ready for bed, I could hear
my wife rustling round in her office. Contacts out,
teeth cleaned, I had just pulled my nightshirt over my
head when she appeared and leaned against the jamb of
the door that separates our bedroom from the bath. She
waited for me to finish adjusting my nightshirt, and
then handed me a folded piece of paper.

"I'm driving down to lunch with mum tomorrow," she
announced. "I'll expect that when I return you will have
accomplished the task."

She winked and smiled, then turned and crossed the room
to crawl into bed. I held the paper, folded and sealed
shut with a bit of tape, savoring the feeling and the
quickening of my heart as I began to ponder what I might
have to do. I laid the paper on the dresser, still
unopened, and joined my other half in between the sheets
and fell asleep letting my mind wander to all of the
things that I might be doing to "accomplish the task."

I woke to brilliant sunshine this morning and after my
shower I flicked open the dare that had spent the night
on my dresser. It read: "Go to the mall. You must try on
a skirt and bring me a picture."

I decided to do the dare at lunch and figured that it
wouldn't be all that difficult, at least until I started
to think about what store I might actually do the dare
in. The big department stores at our mall have their
men's and women's sections on different floors and the
sales people tend to get snippy when it comes to men
going into a dressing room that is in the women's
department. So, as I drove to the mall, I pondered which
of the smaller mall shops would be my target.

I walked the length of the mall, peering into each of
the possible stores to check out who might be shopping
and who was working. The mall was fairly empty, a few
shoppers here and there and what seemed minimal sales
people working. I finally decided on a trendy little
place, with two sales girls and a couple of shoppers,
went inside and began to scope out what my possibilities
were to be. What I hadn't realised, until I was well
into the store, was that it was completely juniors -- no
guy clothing what so ever, and I was standing out like a
sore thumb.

I could have turned tail and gone into one of the other
shops, but decided that I'd stay and pull it off where I
was. I made a circle through the store, and while there
were lots of dresses, I only saw one rack of skirts
which were micro-minis. They were cute, but I wanted to
avoid those if at all possible. Also, because it was a
junior's shop, I was going to have a tough time finding
something and getting into a changing room without
raising some suspicion, and as I wandered through the
store it became clear that the dressing rooms were
locked. The bottom line was that I was going to have to
ask for some help.

By this time both of the sales people were busy at the
register helping someone with a return. Lots of
paperwork and it seemed to take them a long time to
finish up. Two other girls came wandering in and seemed
to know one of the sales people; by now my little heart
was thumping pretty fast and as the customer at the desk
finished up, knowing that I was next, it seemed to race
even faster.

"Now or never," I thought and I walked up to the sales
counter. Speaking in what I hoped was a voice quiet
enough not to carry past the sales desk, I explained
that I had lost a bet (ok, so I fibbed a bit) and that I
had to try on a skirt at the mall. I asked if that would
be possible and if they'd be willing to help me out.

The looks on their faces were priceless. As I began,
there was definite trepidation in their eyes, but as I
got to the crux of the request their concern faded and
they tried to keep their grins to a minimum. After a
brief pause, with me wondering what they were really
thinking, one asked me to follow her. She led me to the
front of the store, fished round on a rack for a second
or two, and handed me a black skirt.

"The changing rooms are in the back" she said as she
started walking toward the rear of the store. I
followed; during our brief walk she asked if I was going
to have to take a picture to prove that I did the dare.
I answered "yes" as I thought to myself that maybe this
wasn't the first customer with such a request.

Once in side of the changing room I was relieved to see
that there was a mirror. I had feared that the only
mirror would be outside of the room and that I'd have to
step back into a public place wearing the skirt to snap
the picture. Relieved, I put on the skirt, stepped to
the edge of the room and snapped a picture as proof.

Dressed again in my own clothes, I left the skirt on a
rack in the back, and thanked the girls as I was
leaving. The butterflies in my stomach were still
circling as I got into my car and started the drive back
home.

It's hard to say what other dares are waiting for me in
the jar. All I can do is sit back and wait until another
"honey-do" is handed to me.