So the family room TV has been broken for...so long that I can't even remember. After countless attempts to fix it, the burning smell and the alien picture it produced finally moved my parents to go out and purchase a new one.
A couple of days ago while I was out grocery shopping with my father, he got a call that the television we were supposed to be getting (a 60-inch) had broken, so they were offering us a discounted 65-inch. After this call, my father and I made a trip to Conn's to check out the 65-inch.
"That looks awful big...too big if you ask me," my dad said, then looked at me for approval on his comment.
"Well, Dad, I've never been one to believe in 'too big' if you know what I mean."
He stared at me for a moment in disapproval, then shook his head because he knew it wouldn't phase me. He disregarded my comment and told the salesman that we'd just take the floor model of the 60-inch television. I really did want the larger TV. It was pretty.
Well, today our new TV was delivered, and my dad just set it up on it's stand. As my mother, my father, and I stare at it in awe, my mom looks over at me and asks, "Can you see it?"...I didn't know quite how to respond to this. If my mother had thought I was blind, she should have put me in a special school a long time ago.
However, I responded, "Well, I could definitely use an extra five inches."
Without a single hesitation, my mother was quick to reply "That's what she said."
No one can ever ask me where I get it from. Ever again.
No comments:
Post a Comment