This is all my fault of course. I have the attention span of a gnat, and I wandered off early in our trek. Actually early inaccurately indicates that I was actually on track at some point. The reality is, as soon as we entered the store and found ourselves in the women's apparel section, I was gone. At least in my head. Oh, I offered my usual comments when we passed by the woman's undergarments section, but immediately after I drifted. Just a little bit at first, but then just a tad further, much like a new swimmer drifts just a little bit further into the deep end of the pool, but at some point can't see the rope that keeps we kiddies safe and accounted for.
Maybe this is her fault. I didn't want to come shopping and I didn't buy her comment that it would be a great way for us to spend some time together. We're not together. I didn't want to come here. This doesn't make me happy, and what's worse, I haven't seen her. I'm still wandering and I'm frustrated that I can't find her. There's a good chance that she's pissed that I've deserted her and I'm anticipating the scolding that I'm about to receive, "No wonder you got lost. I told you to stay by my side!"
Eventually, I have a flash of brilliance and reach for my cell phone. I call her, but much like the deep dark depths of the South American Rainforest there's no service. I keep moving up and down the aisles with no success and I eventually end up in the far reaches of the store where the damaged, discounted and out of season items are displayed. There are no women in this part of the store, just damaged lawn furniture and unsold gas grill replacement parts. I'm scared, cold and lonely. The only source of comfort is that there's a handful of other lost husbands, each of us sporting glazed over eyes, trembling and fearing the scolding that awaits us. Each of us awkwardly look at each other, but eventually I build up the courage to speak. I talk about us banding together and forming our own society of Lost Boys where we'll run across the country side causing havoc, eating pizza and drinking beer. Then our conversation abruptly comes to an end. Deb's standing at the end of the aisle. Her arms are crossed and she's tapping her foot. I bid my comrades farewell, "Uh, guys my wife's here...I have to go."
Deb has a handful of stuff that she's balancing because all this time I've been walking around with an empty shopping carriage. She smiles, pats me on the head and promises me a cookie if I stay with her. Finally we shop together. I start out strong but it's not long that I begin yawning. My feet start to drag and eventually, I assume the husband position of resting my weight on the handle bar of the carriage, dragging my feet. At some point I realize that the bottom panel of the carriage make a cool noise so I start to kick it with each step. I develop what I hear as a cool little rhythm until Deb stops and say, "Will you please stop doing that?"
Deb tries to enlist my help by asking my opinion on grab items for her co workers, this despite the fact that both of us know that she doesn't need my input. "What do you think about this for Ms. O'Neill? I offer a quick, "Yeah, that's great, but in my head I'm saying, "I don't really give a sh*#."
To Deb's credit, she keeps her composure and does her best to keep me engaged and entertained. Then she has her revenge. We still have other shopping to do including groceries, and I offer to stay in the car while she finishes her holiday shopping, then we can do the groceries together. She says, "I have a better idea. I'll go to TJMAXX alone, but I'll drop you off so you can do the food shopping, then I'll meet you there. It'll save us time." I sigh, but I agree and she bets me to see who will finish first. We part, and I rush around the store with my list filling my carriage as fast as I can. I proudly proclaim to myself, "I'll show her how to shop!" I weave in and out of the other shoppers like a man on a mission and I quickly empty my list as my carriage becomes full. When I get to the last aisle, I see Deb walking toward me. She's smiling and says, "I beat you. I win." I correct her and proudly state, "Uh, uh. I'm finished. I win!" Or did I?
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