Thursday, March 1, 2007

Between The Target Sheets

It finally happened.

Last night after Lucky (and daughter Pipes) drove me safely to my doorstep from an enjoyable multi-houred drive from Mesa, I came home to find that my Chup had the whole place looking spotless. Rugs were washed, floors were swept, windows were clean and there upon my bed were new green paisley sheets!

New sheets! New sheets! How I love thee! For sometime we've had the common occurrence of shallow pocketed sheets that would jostle all around at night while I slept. In the morning, the elastic on the fitted sheet crowned my head not unlike a scout in a mummy sleeping bag at the Winter Jamboree.

When Chup saw my exuberance for the new sheets he demanded that we go to Target and buy more, after all, saith he, they were on clearance for seventeen bucketinis (honk if that excites you!) So I strapped on some of my purple sweats and stuffed myself into my purple grandmother-inherited quilted jacket...

***Let me just interrupt here to say how nice it was to reacquaint myself with the sun this past week. I sat in a trance like state for most the week on plastic Adirondack chairs. I added plenty to my facial freckle collection. Last night when I was drifting off to sleep, Chup came into the room and whispered, "I dare you to look out the window." Never one to let a dare pass me by, I got up and peeked out. You know what? Snow. Blowing. Hard. That is what. Makes the case for Global Warming seem like a conspiracy***

...and we went to Target. I picked out more sheets and an eggplant-colored bed skirt. When my arms were fully loaded with goods, we headed towards the cash register (or the Final Judgment, as I like to say) and I turned around to see Chup stopped in his tracks. A long-legged, fleece-wearing woman approached us.

I looked up at Chup curiously, "
Alysha White." he says in a magician's Ta Da! manner.

Alysha White a name I know as well as any celebrity in the Tabloids. I have heard about Alysha White all of my life that has been occupied by my husband. Alysha White huh? Alysha White the only Desire of Chup's heart that was unrequited. Alysha White the Feminine Standard Upon A Hill. Alysha White Returned Missionary, French Speaker, NYU Masters Degree Achiever, and the One Who Stole My Love's Affection Early in His BYU Education. Alysha White standing before me now at Target.

"Oh! Hello!" I said WAY too happy.

"Hello!" she said not daring to match my tone.

Alysha White and I are standing head-to-head while Chup is a couple feet left of center, like a referee in a boxing match.

"This is my wife, Courtney." Says Chup.

Do I say, I've heard so much about you ALYSHA WHITE? I stand there. Gosh she is thin. Skin-ny. And I am poofing out of my Grandmother's Quilted Purple Number.

"Oh Courtney. So nice to meet you. Funny too because I am never at Target!" She, Alysha White, blasphemes.

"Oh really? Where do you live?" And why am I doing all the work in this conversation, Chup? HELLO CHUP?

"South Valley." She replies with her sharp cheek bones.

"South Valley! How nice!" Here I go again with my pushing-the-excitement.


"Well, um," Chup stumbles into the conversation, "sheets are on sale!" now it's his liveliness that skims over-the-top.

Freudian slip?


"It was nice to meet you Courtney." She whispers, "Good to see both of you."

Then Alysha White exits the ring.

I stand there for a second shocked.

"See?" says Chup leaning down for my sake, "I told you that you were cuter."

"Ahh. You are supposed to say that." but I am glad none-the-less.

In bed that night, I have an epiphany. Alysha White didn't take Chup's tip on the cheap sheets. And it was enough to know that though she was Alysha White, for heaven's sake the girl didn't regularly shop at Target.

Had Chup married her it would've been nothing short of a most infelicitous tragedy.