The story behind the name:

One evening, at the Old Broadway Grill in Fargo, North Dakota, my brother caught the end of a Mountain Dew commercial. In the commercial, a Mountain Dew drinker was riding a shark in the ocean. My brother exclaimed in surprise, not realizing that it was a commercial. When I told him he declared "All I saw was a guy coming out of the shower with a shark." Of course, he meant water, but the idea of showering with sharks has been with me ever since.

Friday, December 23, 2011

Best. Gift. EVER.

Harper will be three in April. This will be her third Christmas. For the last two Christmases, we didn't really buy her any presents. She got a ton of presents from other family members and we figured, "Hey, she's not gonna remember who these gifts are from anyway." This year, however, is different. This year, Harper totally gets and has completely embraced the whole Christmas deal... especially presents and Santa Claus. Because of this, we have to get her BOTH Christmas Eve gifts and Christmas Day gifts from Santa. For whatever reason, this totally escaped me until... yesterday afternoon (Dec. 22).

I thought: Crap, I have to go to Target.

SO, I brave the insanity that is Target two days before Christmas and decide upon one gift. I thought that I'd better go home and discuss the whole gift thing with Mark.

Mark was sitting on the couch playing Age of Empires on his Gameboy Advance while we were having this conversation. I should have known this was a bad sign. Mark cannot multi-task. I learned long ago to never try to have a conversation with him while he is watching television or playing Playstation. I don't know why I didn't remember that. Also, Mark has been working at Target on a seasonal basis which means he is very tired. Anyway, we had a discussion about gifts.

This morning, I asked him if he bought Harper anything last night at Target. He said no. He looked confused.

"We need to buy her presents?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, "We talked about it last night."

"I don't remember," he said. "My brain is only working at about 60 percent."

Awhile later we were driving to Target. Well, we were driving toward a Target, trying to figure if we were going to go to the Target on highway 100 or at Ridgedale.

Mark said, "I thought we go south... south on... on..."

Me, "100?"

Mark, "Yeah."

"It's good that you can't remember the name of the road we take, oh, every day."

"Hey," said Mark, "60 percent. 60 percent. I TOLD you my brain was only at 60 percent."

I laughed. "I can't wait to spend time with you today."

"You only have 60 percent of a husband today," he said. "So, Merry Christmas."

60 percent of a husband. Best. Gift. Ever.

1 comment:

  1. Hmm. Sounds like you're going to stay hitched for at least another few weeks. I've got dibs on the other 40 percent, although I'm not sure what that gets me. (Can he do plumbing?)