So am I a dealer?

It usually happens this time of year. I get called a "crack dealer" by a husband in desperate need of gift ideas. Confused yet? Okay, I'll explain.

I love my friend Kimberly. For a lot of reasons. A lot of the reasons are because she is so different from me. Ask her if she's into scrapbooking, card making, paper crafts in general. She'd probably give you a resounding "bahumbug!" . Not me, no way. Yuk. In fact, last year my Bible study group was making some gift bags and tags for a community service project. Kimberly barely agreed to participate. Crafting is just not her "thing". Can you believe I'm still her friend? Anyway, come to find out she likes coloring the little stamped images in. Who settles into the community service project looking like she could do it all day? Yup. Kimberly. But still she shows no sign of "addiction". Fast forward to this November. "I need some Christmas cards", she says to me. Well that's right up my alley, so I hook her up. Fun way to spend an afternoon, I think. It was fun. What's more... Kimberly thought it was fun. I saw a little glint of something in her eyes. Hmmm... what's that? Nah, can't be.

A few weeks ago, I get a stampin' windfall. Big time. Lots of fun stuff. Begging to be shared. So I do what any bonafide crack dealer, er, I mean stamper would do. I pass some to Kimberly. Basics. Stamps that beg to be colored (not my thing at all, I have the patience of a gnat when it comes to coloring in images). A paper cutter, a black ink pad. Stuff I'm ashamed to say that I have waaaay too much of. There it is! That spark! A stamper is born!!!!

So her husband calls me. "You're like a crack dealer. You give enough stuff for free to get my wife hooked. Now, what can I buy her? She was up late last night cutting out those stamps. I already had to clean and adjust the scissors." A grin spreads across my face. This is not the first time I've heard this one. Alas, I'm not a very good dealer though because I give him some suggestions, none of which requires money in my hands.

The funniest part? Not much later Kimberly calls me. "You know what? You're kind of like a crack dealer...." I bite my tongue trying not to laugh out loud! Yeah, I've heard that before I say...