Let’s talk about this picture frame, shall we? Yes, it is absolutely a replica of the gates to Jurassic Park. It also happens to be a prized possession of my husband. There is something about this ridiculous picture frame that fills him with fond memories, though apparently none of these memories were caught on film since it still remains empty to this day.
However, I have quite a few memories associated with this picture frame, most of which involve me arguing with Chase over whether or not we should get rid of it. At least 2 times a year we will do a major cleaning of our apartment and without fail this stupid thing always comes up.
This past Saturday Chase had to work and so I was left home alone to clean the apartment, and I felt compelled to address the issue once again, which resulted in the following image/text conversation taking place:
Me: I think your picture frame has become suicidal.
Chase: I think you can leave my picture frame alone.
Me: “Chase, you never put pictures in me! I feel so unloved.”
Chase: You have too much time on your hands. How about doing my laundry?
Me: “But what about me? Don’t you care about me? Why do you insist on keeping me around??”
Chase: Love you too.
Sadly, after all that the frame has not only survived, but Chase is still vehemently insisting that this is a “really cool picture frame.” I think I’m going to insist that we place it on a very high ledge and hope that a “tragedy” doesn’t befall it.