Miracle at the Armadillo

(This is one of those stories that likely won't interest you one bit; but it made my whole Saturday and it's my blog. So there.) 

I have a Pepsi glass that I love. It's quirky, with a 1970s vibe. When I drink out of it, I like to rub it in to Beau (who loves everything 1970s--Dazed and Confused could have been written about him) that I have one and he doesn't.

So on Saturday, I sent him this picture text.

Ha ha! It's ALL MINE.

Thanks to my braggadocio, I was able to send him this one, not one hour later (like my photographic styling? The garden sheers and phone charger are there to inspire jealousy).

SHIT! FUCK! DAMMIT! DAMMIT! DAMMIT!

Beau could have done a little dance of glee at such instant karma, but instead, he replied: We can look for another one at the Armadillo (which, of course, autocorrect changed to Admiration).

The Armadillo is a huge antique mall in the Denver Metro Area. The odds of going into an antique store and finding one very specific (and very small) item are pretty pathetic.

After looking in every stall, we didn't find one.

WE FOUND TWO!!

Now Beau can come over to my house and enjoy a Pepsi with me! And I'll never brag about them again (or the kick-ass Olive Oyl glass I picked up).