Big Ass Fan

My husband needled me into submission. He wanted a Big Ass Fan in our outdoor cabana. Did we need it? No. Are there other alternatives out there? Yes. And are they cheaper? Probably. At the end of the day, I could not overcome the fact that he wanted to tell his buddies that he had a Big Ass Fan. Makes no sense to me, but he absolutely loves it. And I love him, so I suppose it all has some warped logic. And besides, I eventually got my Panton chairs.

The future site of Mr. Big's baby

On Wednesday, I got an email stating that the newest member of our household had arrived. Yes, it was the fan. He rushed out of work so he could go see it...or the boxes actually. They need to anchor it properly so it may take a few weeks for it to be hung (at the rate we are going these days).

So why am I sharing this with you all? The story took a twist recently when it was realized that Mr. Big charged this fan with the wrong credit card...his corporate card. We work together and my assistant came to see me "about a confidential matter". She elaborated. "I'm not certain how to bring this to your attention, but it seems that your husband has run up quite a tab on a questionable internet site". Huh? "Yes, it's not my place to get involved but accounting felt uncomfortable speaking to you. Apparently he's a fan of rather large backsides...".

Hahahaha! We're going to get years of enjoyment out of this one...