Shopping Nightmare!!! Your wife has given you a list of items to get from the supermarket. You are apprehensive, but you have done this before. You look over the list, "Milk,...bread.....eggs......apples......grapes.....napkins.....a pound of sliced turkey" So far so good. You continue glancing over the list..."Pampers", Ok, you can handle this, no problem, you know how the supermarket is laid out. Piece of cake. You arrive at the supermarket, go inside, and head towards the isle where the milk and eggs are. "Got 'me", You announce to yourself. You are moving now. Apples and grapes are next. Then off to the napkin isle, nary a hitch there. You round the corner for the Pampers and freeze in your tracks. You glance at the shelves in front of you and see not one kind of Pampers, but about three-dozen different kinds. There are Pampers for small babies, large babies. There are Pampers for skinny babies, fat babies. There are Pampers with Velcro (Velcro? What happened to pins??). There are even different colored Pampers. You think to yourself, "Who gives a S____ what color the kid wears, he's gonna crap in the things any way!"  The thought, or rather temptation is to just grab the closest one (educated guess?) and run. But you know better. The last time you did that you faced the unholy wrath of a women disobeyed. Sweat begins to pour from your face. You feel faint, dizzy, disoriented. Suddenly you remember, "Ah, I have the cellular phone!" No problem, you just call the wife and get the exact description. You dial the home number and it rings....and rings.....and rings. "Where IS she?" You gasp, ....ring.....ring....ring...... "NOW WHAT!" You exclaim. A puddle of water begins to form under your feet. You begin to notice others gathering around you. You recognize them as other men. No, they are other husbands, each staring at the monster selection of Pampers before them. Each with the same horrified look on their face. It is exactly the same look men get on the very day of their wedding anniversary when they discover that all the "Happy Anniversary" cards have been bought up at the store. There they all stand, each with his own puddle under his feet, and a ever ringing cellular phone in their hand. Suddenly, every one begins to look at one another as if to see if someone, ANYONE will make a move. Each one wishing the other would move and do something, anything. But no one moves. The sun begins to set. You begin to think, "Why does she do this to me?" You smell flowers. Wives have been doing this to us for years. Short of an outright conspiracy theory, I think it's probably not intentional, but nonetheless no matter how many times we come home with the wrong stuff they continue to send us to the store. Sure, they give us a list, but it is never complete. Where women are usually adept at using many words to explain what they want, when it comes to shopping list they are amazingly handicapped. Not to mention (ok, so I did), that they will joke about our ineptness to their friends afterwards. They give us the crummy incomplete list and WE are the butt of the joke! It's not as if we have a great comeback for this affront. We don't. Ricky Ricardo used to design a plan to thwart Lucy's schemes. That was TV., this is reality. We don't have a plan, nor a clue to why in the hell a baby cares what color the freaking diapers are. Unless of course you are thinking of the color brown.

Copyright 2000, Hubbynet

Return to Main | Digest