Over the years, I have accumulated a large number of greeting cards for various occasions. Don’t ask me why I have all these cards. Maybe I bought one for a specific reason and never got around to sending it, or maybe I bought one to “have on hand” in case I needed a card for a specific reason. Or perhaps I bought a card not remembering I’d already bought a card. (That scenario is the most likely, as I can’t remember my own name most of the time.) The result is a large plastic bag with an assortment of greeting cards for every occasion except the one you need it for.
I found Hubby rooting around in the bag the other day.
“What are you looking for?” I asked him.
“A birthday card for our worship leader at church. I don’t like the one I bought at Walmart.”
I wisely refrained from asking him why he bought it if he didn’t like it.
He pulled out a handful of cards and methodically began searching for the perfect birthday card. The problem is the cards are not arranged with any rhyme or reason, and you have to sort through them all to find one that might work.
“With deepest sympathy,” he read from the first card.
“No, she’s not that old,” I said. “She doesn’t need sympathy yet.”
“Good-bye and good luck. We’ll miss you,” he quoted from the second card.
“Um, that might send the wrong impression that we want her to leave,” I pointed out.
“Congratulations on getting your Master’s Degree?” he suggested.
“Probably not applicable,” I said.
“Here’s one. Happy first birthday, Grandson.”
“You’re getting closer,” I said. “Maybe mark through ‘Grandson’ and add a ‘fifty’ in front of ‘first.’”
“Only as a last resort. How about Get Well Soon?”
“Not unless she’s sick of birthdays.”
“Here’s one,” he said. “A Bible has been placed in your name in memoriam.” His face broke into a big smile. “We could send in money for a Bible. She’d like that.”
I shook my head. “I think someone actually has to die before a Bible can be placed in their name in memoriam.”
Hubby blew out a frustrated breath. “You would think among all these cards that I could find one that simply says Happy Birthday.”
I grabbed another stack of cards to help him out. “Happy Anniversary? No. Thank you for your kindness? She IS very kind. Maybe you could thank her for being born? Wait. Here’s another one. To a wonderful father on Father’s Day?”
He shot me “the look.”
“Congratulations on your new baby,” he read.
“Gracious no! She might have a heart attack, and then we WOULD have to send her a get-well card. Or a deepest sympathy card to her family.” I tried to look at the bright side. “But then the Bible in memoriam would be appropriate.”
“Ah! I found one!” Hubby read the message, decided it worked for what he wanted, and shoved the rest of the cards back into the plastic bag—along with the birthday card he didn’t like. So at least I know we have one birthday card . . . just in case. Anyway, Happy 4th of July! Oh, I don’t think I have a card for that. I’d better go buy one.
Love it, Ellen! And I can relate. But what do I do with all the cards I’ve received?
If you’re like me, you throw them into a drawer because you can’t stand to throw them out. When the drawer doesn’t shut anymore, you take them out and put them in boxes to look at “later.”
Thanks for tge chuckle! I too am a card hoarder!