The Thoughts that Count

***For those of you who love the Banters, they’re back chattering about the thoughts that count. BTW, the word “drongo” is Australian slang for a fool or simpleton. Enjoy! ***

“Matthew, do you remember what you gave me as a birthday present three months after we met and you had already proposed?”

“Oh Geez, Martha, that was over 52 years ago. What do you think I am? A hyperthymesiac?”

“A what?? How do you even spell that? Hyper-thyme…Oh, I get it! Someone who gets hyper after consuming too much thyme? But that doesn’t make sense. I don’t even use thyme in my cooking.”

“No silly! Hyperthymesiacs are those who have an extraordinary ability to recall many of their life experiences. Apparently, it’s quite rare. Only 61 people have been diagnosed with it as of 2021…and obviously, I’m not one of them: I can’t even remember what you just asked me.”

“That makes two of us, Matthew. Your hyperthyme…or whatever it is…blew my thoughts right out the window. But I think it was whether you remembered the first ever birthday present you gave me before we were married and shortly after we met?”

“Right. That’s it. Well, if I remember correctly, it was that 9 X 12 wall clock still hanging in my former basement darkroom downstairs?”

“Yep. The one that hasn’t worked for the past 40 years but which, like everything else cluttering up the basement, you just can’t get rid of.”

“Well, that has sentimental value, darling. It WAS the first gift I ever gave you. But why are you asking about it now?”

“Because I’m curious if you remember my reaction to it and the reason you gave me for buying it.”

“Ummm…now you’re really testing my hyperthymesia. I’m not too sure I remember your reaction, but I do remember the reason I bought you that clock. Do you?” 

“Yes. You told me that because you had proposed, and because I had said yes, being the very practical person you are, it made sense to buy something for our future home. So, technically, you didn’t buy me a present. You bought US a present. 

“Um, okay. I suppose so. But you do agree it was a sensible gift, don’t you?”

“Sensible yes, but I was really taken aback. It just seemed such a weird, impersonal gift to give a woman you hardly knew.”

“But I’d already proposed. It made perfect sense to me. But say, what’s all this about anyway?”

“Oh, nothing major. Don’t worry. I’m not going to start bickering.”

“Phew! Thank heaven because I’m really not in the mood for a Banter bicker today.”

“Me neither. But I’ve got a bee in my bonnet right now about one of this week’s Reedsy prompts. The prompt is to write a story based on the proverb ‘it’s the thought that counts’.”

“Oh, that old one. That shouldn’t be too hard. Life is full of times when we tell ourselves it’s the thought that counts. Why didn’t you just say you’re trying to come up with a story in the first place?”

“Because I’m stuck and I haven’t even thought how to start! Why do you think I asked you that question? I need you to help me get the clogged wheels turning.”

“Okay. I understand. So getting back to my thoughtful gift of the clock?”

“Well yes, about that. I’ll be honest: I was both surprised and kinda disappointed when I saw what it was. Granted, I wasn’t expecting any gift. So despite my feelings, I just told myself it’s the thought that counts. But at that early stage of our relationship, I would’ve expected something more feminine, like a tiny bracelet or some flowers?”

“But flowers are such an impractical gift. Not to mention a waste of money. They die in a few days. At least the clock ticked on for several years.”

“That’s true. But some of the gifts we value most have no practical value at all. Do you remember when Josie turned 7 and Pop gave her 7 gold $1 coins?”

“Sort of. Did something happen with them?”

“Yes, Mr. Hyperthymesia. Oh…did you catch that? I remembered the whole word! Anyway, that day, I took the girls shopping and Josie left her little purse with the 7 coins in the public washroom. When she realized what she’d done, we ran back to look for it but of course, it was gone. Josie was inconsolable. It was the one time she out-screamed Bonny.”

“So what happened?”

“Well, dear little Bonny also had 4 gold coins in her purse. Pop had told her she’d get one more on her birthday the following month. When Bonny saw Josie so distraught, at first, like a little old woman, Bonny tried to console Josie by patting her on the back and telling her not to cry. But Josie wouldn’t stop bawling. So what Bonny did next, I’ll never forget: she offered Josie her purse of 4 gold coins.”

“Aw, what a great kid!.”

“Yes, she was, and still is. But my point is that that was a gift that went way beyond ‘it’s the thought that counts. All told, that gift had very limited practical use but infinite personal value.”

“You’re right, as always. But wait! Are you trying to make me feel bad about the fact I didn’t buy you flowers?”

“Oh honey, of course not. We’re just having a deeper-than-usual conversation to help me come up with something for that Reedsy prompt. I’ve merely been trying to analyze the prompt from various angles. One of those angles is just how much does the thought count if it’s not followed by desirable action.”

“Go on.”

“Well remember when I used to do those educational toy parties in Australia when the girls were little? Remember how many boxes of toys and books I’d have to carry in and out of the party hostess’s house?” 

“Sure do. They filled the boot of that little Gemini you drove. You often complained about how heavy they were.”

“Right. So there was this one night where, as I finished and began packing everything up, the hostess kindly turned to me and said when I needed to carry the boxes out to my car, she’d get her husband to help me.”

“That was nice of her. So did he help?”

“Well, I think she, he, and I all had different ideas about helping. I know what I was thinking, but he and I were definitely not on the same wavelength.”

“Why? What happened?”

“So I got to the front door, carrying three lighter boxes under my arm and pulling my trolley loaded with the other 5 cases. I still had others in her living room for a second trip.”

“And?”

“Well, there I am trying to hold onto the boxes with one arm without letting go of the trolley handle with my other hand while trying to grab the door handle at the same time. No way could I manage it, but just at that moment, the hostess’ husband materialized. He flashed me a huge smile and said ‘Here. Let me help you.'"

‘That was nice of him. How thoughtful.”

“You think so? I thought so too but only for a second. He then opened the front door with his left hand, and with a sweep of his right hand as if he were ushering me into a theatre, said: ‘There you go. I’ll stay here and hold the door open for you until you get everything out to your car. You still have some more boxes inside too, right?’ 

I remember my face flushing in shock as I carried the first load, followed by the second load out to the car, while he stood there holding the door open for me.”

“Ouch.”

“OUCH is right! I was stunned. All the way home I asked myself what was I thinking believing that Drongo was a gentleman like my husband. And if ever there was a time I agreed it’s thoughts that count, it was that night. Let’s just say it’s a good thing that guy couldn’t read my mind.”