me. Or perhaps more accurately, Marketer Jim. You see, thanks to Marketer Jim, I went to an open house at a local care facility yesterday and entered a raffle drawing. I never win raffle drawings.
Until now. The planets aligned, and I won.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I find myself clutching two Jazz playoff tickets in my sweaty little palms at this very moment. Or at least I would be clutching them if I weren't typing instead with the tickets safely stashed away in my purse.
Surprising my Jazz-fever inflicted Husband was fabulous. When I told him I had a surprise for him, he immediately began having chest pain and a panic attack: I think he thought I was going to tell him about a baby in my tummy or something. (I'm not pregnant, by the by. Just a little padded 'round the midsection. I let him sweat it out a little, though, just for laughs.)
So hip hip hooray for the Jazz, and three cheers for Marketer Jim, 2008 Wife of the Year.
Pictures to follow.