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“Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”
Nearly twenty years ago at the beginning of the relationship, that line was worded and delivered with more love and less foreboding.
Now, when the need to stop on the way home from work for hamburger buns and chips gets parlayed into a trip to the day old bread store, additional items will appear.
Imagine my surprise (or lack thereof) and reaction (the lead to this blog) when a sack of hamburger buns, off brand potato chips, ginger snaps, and oatmeal cream pies arrived at the house today as a result of a relatively cost efficient trip to the bread store.
“Who said they were for you?” I was asked.
“I’m here on vacation resisting temptation and being a good boy. Unless you can find a pretty darn good hiding place for this stuff, my original assessment stands firm you succubus.”
*pause for effect*
Okay I didn’t call her a succubus, but all of those other words escaped my oatmeal cream piehole.
If only I could have shown a weight gain from yesterday to today to back up my rant….
