Veteran readers of this blog may recall that a few months ago I was placed in limbo and told that I was not allowed to accompany my wife to the grocery store any more. This unfair and unwarranted decision was made on the multiple grounds that my wife could never find me, that I griped and complained incessantly, that I bought too much stuff we didn't need, and that, in general, I was not a pleasure to be around, i.e., a pain in the you-know-what.
Today, however, I was given permission to accompany my wife to the grocery store once more. I wondered why, and found out when I got to the grocery store. She gave me a list and told me to get my own cart and said she would meet me at the front of the store when we were through. I took my little list to the canned fruits and vegetables aisle. Looking pathetically inadequate to find what was on the list, a nice clerk asked if she could help me. She got my items, one by one, and I was miraculously finished in record time. When we checked out, the checker was inspired when she saw our system and announced that she was going to give her husband a separate cart the next time they went to the grocery store.
When we got home, my wife said, menacingly, "Where are the green beans?" "Oh my heck," I said (as we say here in Utah), "I forgot to get them." I forgot to tell my nice clerk lady I needed four cans of green beans. How can you have a green bean and french-fried onion casserole on Thanksgiving without green beans? So now I have to make a special trip back there for green beans. I don't know whether it was the clerk lady's fault for not asking to see my list, or my wife's fault for not double-checking my purchases before we left the store, but the omission was definitely not my fault. I was merely sacrificing my time and talents just to go to the store.
Remember, about 80% of all french-fried onions are bought for Thanksgiving dinner, or so I think I read some time back. The french-fried onions will disappear before the green beans will, I predict. Also, I was able to get my $1 hot dog from Dorthy, the 91 year old hot-dog lady, and thus consume my yearly allotment of sodium nitrate, sodium nitrite, fat grams, and other additives. So the trip was not a total loss.
