I’m beginning to suspect my husband doesn’t thoroughly enjoy shopping with me.
This may be due to the fact that, whilst shopping, I like to amuse myself by finding little ways to embarrass him.
For instance, in a bustling clothes shop I once spied the most garish and tacky mens g-string I’d ever seen. It was the kind you’d imagine someone on Jersey Shore might wear. So, naturally, I held a pair above my head and shouted to my husband across the room, “LOOK, SWEETHEART! I FOUND THE ONES YOU LIKE!”.
Another time in a supermarket, I waited until he’d wandered halfway down a busy aisle before shouting out, “DO WE NEED MORE DOG FOOD FOR OUR BABY?”.
In fact, supermarkets are the best! On many occasions, my poor husband has turned around to discover that, whilst he’s been meticulously choosing healthy food items for us, I’ve been standing quietly behind him holding a mountain of junk food. Literally armloads of the stuff. There’s usually so much that I can barely see where I’m going and I’m having trouble just holding onto everything. As my husband notices the trail of chip packets and chocolate biscuits behind me, I ask him in a concerned voice, “Is this enough?”.
Of course, that last one is slightly annoying because I then have to march back around the store and return everything, but the initial look on my husband’s face is totally worth it.
Anyway we went shopping yesterday and I decided it might be a nice change if I was a help, not a hindrance. I thought it would be special to have an outing where my husband doesn’t at some stage regret bringing me.
So when I noticed my husband having difficulty finding a birthday card, I saw my chance. He needed the card for his sister’s son but there didn’t appear to be any for 12-year-olds.
So I put my Helping Hat on and pipped up. “I’ve know!” I exclaimed. “Just buy a 10-year-old card AND a 2-year-old card – and give him both!”
[To any school children who've sat through a boring maths class thinking "When am I going to use maths in the real world?" - there's your answer, kiddies!]
I was chuffed, but the look on my husband’s face said it all.
I shall go back to what I do best.
I sent this to Oosband and told him to thak his lucky stars. He, to his credit (sort of) said that he did not need my help being embarassed in public – he was quite capable of managing that himself.
See husband, did you read this comment? Her husband doesn’t need help. Must I do EVERYTHING?