Men and Grocery Stores

I asked my husband the other night, "Honey, can you run to the grocery store for me?" He stopped what he was doing and gave me a "deer in the headlights" look.

"What do you need?" he asked suspiciously.

"Don’t worry," I answered. "No feminine products."

Obviously relieved, he blew out all the air he’d been holding in his lungs for the last 15 seconds. "What do I need to get?"

"Just three things," I answered. "Cream cheese, green onions, and salsa." I needed the ingredients for a special appetizer I was taking to a potluck at work the next morning.

"That doesn’t sound too hard," he said.

"Do you want me to write it down?" I asked.

He glanced over at me and raised his eyebrows. "Honey, it’s only three things."

"Okay," I said reluctantly. His spotty past history with trips to the grocery store on my behalf worried me, but I decided to let it go.

He left a few minutes later and as he walked out the door, I yelled, "REPEAT MY LIST!"

He shouted back, "AMERICAN CHEESE, YELLOW SQUASH, AND TOMATOES!"

"Oh God," I muttered to myself. "I don’t know what I’ll make with those ingredients if that’s what he comes home with."

I yelled, "NO, NO, GET CREAM CHEESE, GREEN ONIONS, AND SALSA!"

"Got it!" he bellowed from the car.

One hour passed and I began to nervously drum my fingers on the kitchen countertop. I heard the car pull into the garage. I dashed outside as he pulled sack after sack out of the trunk.

"Good grief!" I said. "What do you have there?"

He smiled excitedly. "Fresh asparagus was on sale, and then I was in the produce aisle which happens to be right by the meat aisle and I couldn’t help but strike up a conversation with the guy behind the counter and he told me he had these two great steaks in the back that I could buy for only $14.00 each!"

I gasped as I began looking through all five sacks. I frantically searched for my cream cheese, green onions, and salsa.

"Where’s the cream cheese, green onions, and salsa?" I asked my husband.

Again, he sported the "deer in the headlights" look which, quite frankly, lately was becoming a more of a regular facial expression for him than a normal look.

"Oh God," he said. "I think I forgot your stuff. But did you notice I got a potato peeler on sale?"

I put my face in my hands and sighed as I wondered how I would whip up a dish for tomorrow’s potluck with asparagus, dry wall nails, two steaks, a potato peeler, five bottles of olive oil, and a carton of chocolate milk.

As I began to thumb through my cookbooks to find a new recipe that utilized the only other two ingredients I had in my refrigerator, I realized I’ve learned one thing in 15 years of marriage.

Men and grocery stores are like bleach and household cleaners. Don’t mix them together. It can be a lethal combination.

 

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About Vicky DeCoster

Award-winning humor writer Vicky DeCoster is the author of "From Diapers to Dorkville," "Husbands, Hot Flashes, and All That Hullabaloo!" and "The Wacky World of Womanhood." She has been published in over 60 magazines, books, and on several web sites. Vicky lives in Nebraska with her husband and two children where she loves to laugh every day. Visit her at www.wackywomanhood.com.
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