A dreaded question

Through a rather weird set of circumstances, I ended up bringing my husband Eric with me to the grocery store twice in one week. He’s a horribly impatient shopper, so it is something I generally try to avoid.

He doesn’t understand the difference that one brand over the other can make. He doesn’t get that even if I’m in the place for three items, I have to cruise the aisles for sales. He has no idea what is acceptable to pay for a loaf of bread or package of brats. No concept of a huge discount when buying in bulk. And he sneaks junk into the cart when he thinks I’m not looking.

In other words, I don’t grocery shop with him because he makes me crazy.

But I had to laugh when I stopped at the grocery store in Slayton the other day. He ended up on the tough end of unloading the cart, because I noticed a sale on pasta at the last minute and left him to his own devices for no more than 45 seconds. He unloaded the items in our cart, then ended up on the confusing end of things.

Not the money end. I got there in time to pull out the debit card before he got cranky. But as we walked out the door, he made a comment that made me laugh, because I have written about this in the past.

“Did I do the right thing?” he asked as we walked out with the bags or groceries.

“What?” I responded, wondering if I should go back for more pasta. The little rings that make such good salad, you know. Especially with tuna and the little peas that get caught up in the pasta loops.

“I had no problem when the pastor asked me if I took this woman to thee wed,” he said, totally losing me.

“What?”

Even after being married for forever, he can still derail my train of thought with a strange remark.

“I said yes right away, with no hesitation,” he said. “But the kid asked me if I wanted paper or plastic and you weren’t there so I said paper. I’m not sure if I gave the right answer. It’s a really hard question. Did I do the right thing?”

I walked out of the store laughing.He was comparing marrying me to choosing bags.

He didn’t question marrying at age 18, having three babies by age 23, moving across the country several times in the service, buying a house in a town we’d never been in after looking at it for an hour or throwing a wedding for our oldest kid in our back yard in a few months, but is baffled over whether we need more paper bags or plastic bags in the house.

It would be easier to make fun of him over this if I wasn’t by his side for all of those decisions, yet still got flustered over the same question. He makes calls every day that could cost thousands of dollars if he screws up and I choose the words that go into a newspaper article regarding some very serious subjects.

Yet the “paper versus plastic” thing gets us every time.

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