So this morning, in order to prepare for what will soon be our empty-except-for-the-boomeranger-but-she's-never-here-on-the-weekends nest, I thought it might be nice to actually do something with Drip Dry.
You know. . . like, together.
But the problem is that there are very few things that we both enjoy.
He likes golf, exercise, and health foods.
I like cheese, bagels, blogging, and reading.
Sad to say, the only interest we both heartily share is affiliated with alcohol consumption, but it was 8:00 a.m. and, after some back and forth, we decided to take that option off the table.
Now I made the suggestion that we go to church like many couples do, but he quickly refused - even when I reminded him that it was probably the only place in town serving wine at 8:30 in the morning.
But wine or no-wine. . . Drip Dry was not going to church. In fact, he insisted on going for a run instead, while I - in my sainthood - opted for the hair-of-the-dog route. But we did, however, agree to meet up later and go to the Sunday morning farmer's market together.
Splendid.
Except that I forgot all about the embarrassment factor that comes with shopping with my husband. How bad could it be? you ask. Let me recount just some of the things that came out of his mouth when others were in earshot:
Hey look what that lady bought, Liz, how come you never buy that?
Garlic? I've never seen garlic look like that! Yes, of course garlic upsets my digestive system.
Seafood! Do they expect you to believe they raise fish on farms?
Who's that guy over there, Liz? No! Don't look now! I just want you to tell me who he is.
I've gotta text Ed right now to tell him I'm in a sea of humanity. S-E-A O-F H-U-M-A-N-I-T-Y!
I know they all have their teeth, Liz!
Oh look! The cheese booth. . . I suppose you're going to want to stop at the bread stand next???
$2.99 for six ears. . . let's see. . . that's like. . . like. . .fifty cents an ear! That's waaaaaay too expensive for corn. It's a good thing I'm here with you. I have to teach you how to economize. We'll be retired soon, you know.
Oh, and who's that guy standing right there? You know him from church. He's the one married to the lady with the big. . .
Hey! Why did you leave me standing there?
No, don't leave that way, Liz! This way is much closer. . . just crawl under that table there between the two stands and we're home free!
Aha! Now we get to see where they get the stuff from. Look at those boxes. I told you . . . this stuff doesn't really come from farms. It comes from boxes!
Needless to say, I have already scheduled his tee time for next Sunday morning.
