I don’t know what got into my husband yesterday, but for the first time in the duration of our marriage, he happily joined me as I went shopping all afternoon. I had tons of errands to run, gifts to buy, mail to send, and odds and ends to pick up and he decided to come along for the full trip. Shockingly, he did not complain during the entire excursion, a miracle considering that he orders nearly all things online to avoid having to even step into a retail establishment.
Anytime we are out spending money, be it at a restaurant or grocery shopping, Will puts on this extremely embarrassing show. He sighs with relief when the credit card is approved for our purchases and will make comments that imply that any day now our cards will be shut off due to lack of payment or for our spending being wildly over the limit. Sometimes he insinuates that the card we are using is stolen or that we are on a wild shopping spree to build up our balance before we file bankruptcy next week. He does this with such a straight face that it seems actually believable and, although I usually shake my head and roll my eyes, the cashiers never seem to even flinch at the thought that our credit card might be rejected.
In addition to the jokes at every register regarding our inability to properly pay for the things we were purchasing, Will had a running commentary on every store we went into.
“Why is it Jo Ann and not Jo Ann’s?” he wanted to know, and promptly decided that Jo Ann Fabric “is a huge, huge room with a bunch of shit people don’t need.” Although he did decide that there is one practical section: poster board.
His opinion on other places we visited:
“If Target doesn’t have it, you probably don’t need it.”
“Kohl’s is the Pic and Save of apparel.” (I don’t know when he got so haughty, especially considering that he had just tried on a jacket at Target.)
“TJ Maxx reminds me of a swap meet but with all new shit.”
“You should never experiment with a Venti.” (After ordering the largest possible size Blackberry Green Tea Frappuccino Blended Creme without ever having tried it.)
Before we left for the day of shopping, Will had added four things to my shopping list, none of which we ended up purchasing. One thing he decided he did not actually need, two things he decided would be easier to purchase on the internet, and the thing he wanted from Costco he decided could wait due to the extremely long lines of people buying hams.
The weird thing about this shopping trip, however, was not the silly commentary or the broke jokes; these are common occurrences in my world. The weird thing was the discovery that my husband has a deep-seated interest in vacuum cleaners. In every store, he spent time comparing the prices, features, and capabilities of the various vacuums. He’s even compared them online, I found out. He knows if Target is overcharging for the Dyson and whether the Oreck is a better value than the Hoover.
This brings so much more meaning to the term neat freak. I always knew he was tidy and he’s always been a little unusual, but now it is all starting to fit together. I married Mr. Clean.
(As a side note, Will was doing the dishes as I was writing this blog and I called into the kitchen asking for a synonym for the term neat freak. Will thought for a moment and responded, “I don’t know….me?” Yes, honey, exactly.)
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