That normal guy and I spend our morning on the weekend going to a local eatery for some good old fashioned pancakes and then head to the grocery store.
I’m that normal housewife who thinks she’s going to cook throughout the week so she gets a huge list together hopeful that this will be the week she’s successful.
I’m getting better.
At buying fewer items, not cooking.
But this isn’t about beating myself up for not being a great cook… or one at all. This is the conversation I had last week when buying candy for work.
That normal guy: “Why are you buying so much?”
Me: “These people expect greatness from me. I must deliver.”
My quest for candy begins by scanning the shelves (no two stores are alike) to find the elite… Fruity flavors and Willy Wonka, of course.
I spot Starburst Reds. YES! *shakes fist in victory* return to grab another. My hand feels nothing but empty shelving.
Me: “Why on earth are they out of the best candy on earth?”
That normal guy: *left me for the chip aisle*
Dumb salty food peeps.
I continue searching and select jolly rancher crunch and chews (a must), berry starbursts, and all-time favorite of mine, Airheads.
I feel the Airhead bag to determine the softness of the chew worthy goodness. What? This is a thing people. I have yet to confirm if the candy is worth buying as I leave the aisle with my hands full and cross the sweets threshold into saltlandia where I drop the candy in the cart and shove the airhead bag at that normal guy.
That normal guy: “I won’t eat those babe.”
Me: “I know and neither will anyone else if you don’t feel the bag.”
That normal guy: *stares at me questioning why he married me* <– (this happens a lot).
Me: “Is it fresh?”
That normal guy: “I don’t know, I didn’t make them.”
He hands the bag to me. I admit defeat and drop in the cart.
Me – 0
That Normal Guy – 1
Lesson: Marriage isn’t about feeling up candy.