This is how little sense he makes: he actually believes that grocery shopping is fundamentally different from grocery shopping.
I know, right? I mean… honestly, I deserve some sort of award for putting up with that sort of lunacy day in and day out for as long as I have.
Do you have one full of chocolates instead?
Thankfully I have you, and you agree with me, so that’s alright then.
I see we have some new readers with us today. Doubters. People who haven’t been with us on this long journey and therefore will demand an explanation. Fine, I’ll catch you up. But for the dedicated reader, go ahead and skip to the bottom—I’ll leave something fun down there just for you, since I know you understand me without having to slog through all this.
Right, so there’s this thing ‘round here about how Husband and I cannot go grocery shopping together—if you must know, it’s because he’s boring and forgets to get the things I mentioned even though I told him instead of putting them on the list and he insists I’m too erratic and waste time and money wandering through the aisles buying things we don’t need or have room for and will never use.*
All of this is fine. I mean, it isn’t because he’s wrong and I—as previously stated—am a rockstar at grocery shopping. But we make it work; he runs boring errands that keep me in artichokes and sugary cereal, and I get to wear these like they’re real shoes.
The problem arises in the following scenarios: first, he cannot decide whether his desire to have me always at his side** or his engineerish impulse to take the efficient boring path should rule the day.
HIM: So you want me to run out?
ME: (holding Alexander Hamilton) I can go with you if it would make you less lonely.
HIM: Yeah.
ME: Does it make you less lonely when I go in with you?
HIM: Yea—no. Because you get distracted and wander off and then I’m lonely and I’ve lost my wife.
ME: (laughs)
HIM: You have no idea what it’s like, wandering around and not only do I need to find the things but—
ME: I’ve fucked off.
HIM: Yeah!
HAMILTON: (cuddles hard, grabbing my shoulder)
ME: You can’t see him, but I’m pretty sure Ham is laughing right now.
He also thinks it’s hilarious that I can’t leave the house without a fresh coat of cat hair.
The second scenario is the reason we’re here today. Because, as stated… somewhere above, he’s got it in his head that grocery shopping is somehow fundamentally different from any other sort of shopping. Even though I might send him with a list to a clothing store or wherever, in his mind it’s just different.
HIM: (getting dressed, makes face)
ME: Do you want new pants?
HIM: Yes.
ME: (patiently) Okay. Go get new pants then.
HIM: You know I can’t shop!
ME: (puzzled) I do?
HIM: Last time I went shopping for a long sleeved casual shirt I came home with a short sleeved button-down.
ME: Yeah… I’m still not sure how—
HIM: I can’t shop!
I ask you, how can I be expected to reason with someone who thinks like that?
And now, New Reader, you’re all caught up. Welcome to our little club! Please, stick around for cupcakes and wine—I don’t provide them but I heavily encourage overindulgence in both.
Oh, and for the rest of you:
I have no idea what’s happening here but I support every second of it
* Which is manifestly untrue; I’ve got more uses for a crock pot than anyone we know and he doubts my ability to find room in our lives for the banana slicer?
** Who could blame him? I’m fucking delightful.
#1. He can’t shop? neither can my husband. It must be genetic.
#2. I have no idea what’s going on there either… but giant cat transportation seems quite efficient.
#3. You are fucking delightful. That’s a given.
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Giant cat transportation seems genius, until you consider the feeding issue.
Then there’s the litter issue…
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Let us not forget the “fresh coat of cat hair” issue.
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Put me in the “can’t shop” club too. Thank God Amazon came along. The only shopping I ever liked was browsing the movies at Blockbuster, and I can only do that now if I travel to Bend, OR where the last store is located.
I think I posted this once before, but it bears repeating:
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I can’t recommend amazon enough; putting on pants to go shopping is so 2007
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Neither me OR my bf can shop. It’s a mess, I make lists, forget them at home, he throws random shit into the cart, we spend $300 at costco get home and realize we don’t have anything to eat so we go to taco bell. Also apparently I “walk too fast.” Little background, I’m 41, use a walker because my knee is all fuxored up and am having a knee replacement in 2 weeks. I. Walk. Too. Fast. I’m gonna get him a scooter.
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Husband insists on holding my hand so I don’t “wander off.” Is it my fault he can’t spot interesting distractions and get sidetracked with me?
Costco is full of groceries and almost no food. We’ve become pros who make a take-out plan while we’re shopping.
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I can relate all too well. My husband bought himself a dress shirt once – the kind that requires cuff links. Which he does not own. Oops. Fortunately, I like to shop, so he is covered.
I lost my drivers license for 7 weeks once (I do not recommend. No I was not drunk driving. I had too many speeding tickets in a year – well, technically in under 6 months but I got the same punishment as those with a year, it just happened sooner). The only way I could grocery shop was to wait until the weekend and make him go with me. We have 6 children so groceries are, how can I say this, ESSENTIAL! We would split the list and I would send him to get stuff I thought he could handle. Apples. He got about 6. I was like, I buy 3 dozen apples each week – what rock do you live under? Shampoo- 1 bottle. Dude, when we are out of shampoo I buy several bottles or we are gonna run out again in 3 days. Duh?
Today is our 23rd anniversary, so we must be doing something right. (I almost typed ‘I must be doing something right’ – oops)
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If he hasn’t noticed the abundance of apples, I’m prepared to give you full credit for the success of the relationship.
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A banana slicer? Seriously??? You mean … Something for slicing bananas that isn’t a KNIFE?????
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It’s banana-shaped.
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And that’s your excuse? As though all bananas are the same? I bet you also say the size of the banana doesn’t matter.
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I love how you’re blaming me like I invented it.
I just know I’d quickly be able to justify its place in my kitchen.
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But it does come in two sizes.
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