The tale of the spice rack

(Oh, and by the way, I think I have found the purpose of this blog that I questioned below. It's so everyone can leave me very kind, loving comments that boost my self-esteem. Thanks!)

Once upon a time I married a boy named Chris. Now, for those of you who don't know this boy, he's quite low maintenance. The moments are far and few between that he insists on things or even asks for things, so, like a good wife, I try to comply with his wishes on the rare occasions that he has wishes.

When we were engaged, and registering for gifts, one of these occasions occurred. I fell in love with a Martha Stewart spice rack (pictured below). "Chris! Look at this!" I said. He immediately turned his nose up at this slice of country living vintage heaven.

He said, "Erin, they're in little tins. They don't have a spout, you'll have to use your fingers or a measuring spoon all the time."

I said, "But look how pretty it is!"

He said, "Well, you can register for it, but I really would rather not have it. It's just not very practical."

Out of the kindness of my heart and the love I had for my fiance, I did not register for the lovely spice rack.

However, we did register for another one at Bed Bath and Beyond, which we received. It's lovely in a normal spice rack sort of way, but somewhere inside I still thought about the charming Martha Stewart one from Macy's.

Then, on Monday after work, I wandered into Macy's because I could see lots of signs proclaiming a sale, and I still have some money on a gift card from the wedding. So I went and looked at shoes, where I tried to decide if I like those oxfords that are also heels or not. I think I only like them on models and not on me.

Obviously I then went up to the third floor where all the home goods are kept. And what do you think I found on the clearance table? My spice rack! Much discounted! But I have a spice rack . . . .

I had a moral wrestle with myself, and then explained the whole story to two of the salespeople who were very nice but also pressured me a little.

I called Andrea, because she is my shopping partner in every way, and that includes advice over moral dilemmas involving spice racks and husband's wishes. She told me to walk away, and if I kept thinking about it all night, to go back and get it in the morning. I thought this was excellent advice, and told the lady who had been helping me of my decision.

And then she said, "Oh, but today is the last day of 30% off. And you have 6 months to return it."

So I left the store with my spice rack in tow.

That night I pitched the idea to Chris, who was reluctant but sweet. He said, "But we already have one." I tried to pretend like we would ever run out of spices, but he pointed out that when you run out of spices you do not buy a new spice rack, you go to the grocery store and buy a new container of basil.

So it sat in the kitchen with no decisions made.

Tuesday came, and I decided to go park in the half hour parking at BYU while I was at my class, which lasts an hour and fifteen minutes. I've done this MANY times, and never had a ticket. Well, when I returned to my car, guess what I saw? That little green envelope with a parking ticket inside.

Awesome.

But it all came together today while I was at work. One of my co-workers was talking about a gift card he and his wife had gotten for their wedding, which resulted in me telling the story of the spice rack. I finished with, "So now we have two, and I don't know what to do because I just love the new one so much."

Julia, my dear dear friend at work, said, "I've been wanting a spice rack. Can I buy your old one from you?"

I said, "That would be amazing!"

She said, "How much?"

I said, "Oh, I don't know. Like $20?"

She said, "Done."

So now I can pay my parking ticket without feeling bad about spending $20 to get to class on time, Julia gets a spice rack, which she's been wanting, and I get to keep my beautiful new one! And Chris gets to realize he has a wife who tries really hard to get her way all the time. Which I'm pretty sure is his Christmas wish.

Win. Win. Win.