I knew I should have said no.
I should have just said no.
But I didn’t.
When Tom offered to take me to the grocery store, I said yes.
Well, okay, at first I said that it wasn’t necessary. But Tom was worried because of the snow drifts.
“You might get stuck,” he said. He saw my hesitation and went, “Come on, maybe I want to spend time with you. I want to spend all the time I can with you since I’m going to Korea for a year.”
How do I argue with that? (And oh my God, I hope he’s joking. I love him, but I don’t need to spend every waking moment with him before he leaves in August. I still need my space.)
So we all bundled into Tom’s truck and headed for the grocery store.
Right away I was reminded on why I didn’t like shopping with Tom.
For starters, he’d walk off with the cart when my arms were full of food. It’s like, hello, where is the chivalry? When you see your wife struggling with a bunch of stuff in her arms, you stop the cart and say, “Oh, here let me get those for you.” You don’t keep walking.
“Tom!” I called out.
He kept walking. He really needs to clean out his ears.
“Hey, butthead!” I tried again and he turned around. (Tee hee he answered to butthead.)
This old lady who was buying four cans of peas looked scandalized. Her mouth kept opening and closing, opening and closing.
“It’s a term of endearment, really,” I assured her as I walked past.
Then Tom wanted cereal. He picked Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
“I don’t have a coupon for that,” I said, pulling out my trusty coupon book.
“And?” Tom looked utterly perplexed.
“I’m not about to pay $3.46 for one tiny box of cereal,” I explained. Why wasn’t he comprehending this? Who would fork over nearly four dollars for a box of cereal? I only buy the ones that are $2.50 or less.
“But I want Cinnamon Toast Crunch,” Tom pouted, hugging the box to his chest. Honestly, sometimes he acts like a child.
“How about some Cocoa Puffs? They’re on sale this week,” I said, waving the box in the air.
“No way! Cinnamon Toast Crunch!”
“For the love of—fine. Get it!”
Then Tom would hurry down the aisles while I’d try to look at things. He wanted to get the shopping over with as quickly as possible.
“You’re going too fast. For the love of God, YOU’RE GOING TOO FAST!” I finally lost my cool. I’m sorry, but I can’t just run down an aisle and grab what I need. I walk at a reasonable pace so I can get a good look at products and prices.
Oh, and when I said I forgot something a few aisles back, you’d have thought that I told Tom that I was going to wear a polka dotted thong on my head. He was all, “How could you forget something?” Gee, I don’t know, maybe because you were practically RUNNING DOWN THE AISLES!
When we checked out, I was so irritated that I forgot to hand the cashier a coupon. I didn’t realize it until we had paid.
“I had a coupon for a dollar off!” I wailed.
“So?” Tom did not understand.
“A dollar OFF!” I hollered.
“Calm down. Geez. If it bothers you so much, have this.” And Tom pulled out his wallet and handed me a dollar.
“It’s not the same,” I fumed. But I still pocketed the dollar because hello, large sweet tea from McDonalds.
That’ll definitely make up for the horrendous shopping experience.
I really am quite easy to please, you see.