Gerald and I have been married a number of years now. Oh yeah, total bliss, you know it’s true. I must say that Gerald does try his best to keep his baby happy. No matter how asinine the request may seem to him, Gerald has learned to just do it anyway, no questions asked. This doesn’t mean we haven’t run into some “interesting” results along the way though.
Take for instance, The Shopping List. You just can’t get more complicated than a shopping list drafted by yours truly. You take my food intolerances, Gerald’s food preferences/dislikes, plus the boys’ favorite items, and you know it’s gonna be one crazy time-consuming trip to the grocery store. But Gerald will go for me anyway. It can be too hot, too muggy, too cold, too whatever for me, and my honey will go. Yes, I’m the one who regularly trudges to the store, but Gerald willingly goes for me when
Gerald blames the awful handwriting, but I believe it’s more that he doesn’t pay attention to the minute detail of my typical meal planning / food preparation. Specific brands and quantity are important, Gerald.
He’s come home with corn tortilla chips instead of corn tortillas. The fix? We turned the tacos into nachos. One time Gerald got me the protein bars with the high sugar alcohol levels. Sugar alcohols and my system is just a disaster waiting to happen, people! The fix? I gave them to a co-worker. I think she was okay. I didn’t stick around to find out though.
At Thanksgiving a few years ago, Gerald was tasked with a run to the store for just two items so no list was necessary, right? Wrong. You can’t expect a man to capture the crucial details that it’s Breyer’s with a ‘B’ ice cream. Do NOT get the Dreyer’s with a ‘D’. I can only tolerate the Breyer’s, with a ‘B’. So what do you think the man comes home with? Yep, the ‘D’ ice cream. Tis okay, guess who had to make another trip to Kroger?
That same day, I tasked Gerald with buying two fall-ish floral arrangements. The man comes home with two fall-ish plants. Plants? What am I going to do with plants? Oh, that’s right, kill them. I didn’t want plants, Gerald! Solution? We kept them around long enough for the T-Day dinner, but the plants were promptly sent home with my mother-in-law. They would at least have a fighting chance! Gerald claims he didn’t really know the difference between a bouquet and a plant.
The moral of the story? What Gerald’s baby wants, Gerald’s baby gets. But not always.