I coined a new term today, Wilson Phillips Disease, or WPD. For those of you unfamiliar with who Wilson Phillips is, they were a 90's all girl band that consisted of Carnie Wilson and Wendy Wilson (the daughters of Beach Boys founder Brian Wilson) and Chynna Phillips (daughter of John and Michelle Phillips of The Mamas & the Papas and half-sister of Mackenzie Phillip of One Day at a Time).
When Wilson Phillips burst onto the musical scene in 1990 their first two songs were Hold On and Release Me. I always found the indecisiveness in those two song titles rather humorous and I remember joining the lyrics together and getting a few chuckles out of that years ago. "Hold on for one more day, release me, can you release me?" I used to sing, and it never got old. It kind of reminds me of how I will hug the kids or my wife and when they hang on for too long say "break", meaning okay, I'm done and it's time to break away there you clingy little thing you.
Anyway, about a month and a half ago I was roaming around the mall with my wife and we found ourselves in Bath and Body Works (we had been in Victoria's Secret just before that, so after this trip I had to run home and watch some NASCAR to bring my testosterone levels back up to an acceptable level, and I abhor NASCAR).
For those of you who have never been in Bath and Body works, it's that place that charges way too much money for a little bottle of lotion, but makes you feel like you're getting a great deal by giving you three for free if you buy three. What the three for free really does though is just make that stuff only slightly overly expensive. Anyway, there was a body spray that she liked but for some reason we left without any; she just couldn't pull the trigger.
Since that trip I've probably heard about 15 times how good that stuff smelled, so I took her today to get her some, plus we needed to go to the mall anyway because daddy needed some new shoes. It probably took me about an hour to pick out some shoes, but this post isn't about me, so I won't write about how I tried on about a hundred pairs of shoes until I found a pair that the doggies really liked.
Bath and Body Works had these little pieces of paper that you could spray and then smell to find what you liked and eventually my wife had enough paper in her hands to print a New York City phone book; she was having a terrible time deciding what she wanted. She would spray one, walk over to the next one and spray it, then forget which paper was which and have to start the process all over again. At one point she looked at me and said "isn't this fun"? No, not much. At another point she looked at the glazed, dull expression on my face and asked me if I was okay. I guess I was, but we had exceeded my 15 minute attention span hours ago.
Anyway, after about 3 hours of sniffing we finally walked out of there with our 6 bottles of lotions and sprays. We had been there for so long that at one point some of the employees thought that I worked there and kept asking me if I needed to clock out and take a break. I think that they were concerned about paying me overtime. I'm pretty sure that when I turn 65 I'll get a little bit of retirement money from Bath and Body Works.
The point of all this being that my wife, who I love dearly by-the-way, clearly suffers from WPD. Or perhaps more appropriately, we suffer with her WPD.
And now my video tribute to Wilson Phillips.