You're House Is My House

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This husband of mine…

Enjoys shopping…loves to browse…look for treasures for his beautiful bride…find trinkets that make him laugh…and what better place to scratch that browsing itch than the Historic Market Square…so colorful…so full of life…so full of so many things you really don’t need…

But then…maybe you do need those noise makers you’ve admired three years in a row…draw the animals of the forest to the backyard with the near realistic chirping and croaking…be the old man version of Snow White…

And maybe you do need that cowboy hat…been on the hunt for one…can’t quite find the right color…the right fit…but this one…price is right…fits like a glove…twil make some little friend feel like the bomb…and this old gal…maybe…she needs another tile to hang with the kitchen menagerie…chose the one with the cat…welcoming friends and visitors…su casa es mi casa…my house is your house…

Strolling leisurely back to the Riverwalk…wrapped treasures nestled in the arm…the lightbulb suddenly goes on for one of us who doesn’t speak Spanish…that tile…the cat…su casa es mi casa…that’s not my house is your house…that’s YOUR house is MY house…
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That husband of mine…laughing along with his wife…who finally got the joke…heartily…agreed…