There are many reasons I love my wife. One of them is her creativity. She really has a way with words.
Yesterday she was telling me about a special crochet hook she wanted. (For context: she is an avid and accomplished crocheter. Not certain how that word should be pronounced, but she prefers it to “hooker.”) It’s one of those high-end, fancy, made-from-special-wood deals that, apparently, can actually be sold for over $100. Yes, that’s right. $100 for one crochet hook.
My wife averred as to how no way would she ever pay that much for a crochet hook, no matter how special the wood was.
After a slight pause, she said, “If they could somehow document that the hook was carved from wood that came from a tree fertilized by the ashes of Jimmy Hoffa, then maybe.”
I don’t know how she comes up with that sort of thing, but she does all the time. I just love it!