There comes a time (ofthemonth) where women need… shall we say… certain “supplies” exclusive to the female gender. *ahem*
And unfortunately (fortheman), despite the woman’s best efforts… SOMETIMES He is called on to help *ahem* restock this very specific “supply”. Probably the most hated item on a man’s “honey-do” list.
I may or may not have teased my husband about my own issue with this “supply and demand” problem just this morning. I mean, he WAS going to run errands, sooooo… However, so everyone will know I am a compassionate woman, I released him… As I said, just kidding Baby”… I could swear I saw the testosterone rush back to his face… the whiskers on his unshaved jaw waved in celebration.
This little “interaction” reminded us of a time when we were first married. It was the evening of the fourth of July.
We went to a local drug store. *Ican’tbelieveIamactuallytellingthisstory* We had to pick up a few things. One item on this list was… errrmmm… Let’s just say we were newlyweds who were actively pursuing a state of kidlessness for a span of several years. Think “barrier method”.
So, we get to the counter to pay for our “goods”. We make the transaction… all three of us (my 23-year old dashing, young husband, the high school-aged male checker *of course*, and I) made valiant efforts to make no eye contact. I was proud of our mature manner throughout the very uncomfortable process.
But.
As we walked away… as. we. walked. away… our teenage checker added, with an innocent pep in his voice —
Enjoy the fireworks!!!
Really? After working so hard to avoid eye contact… it was finally made – thricewise in triplicate!!! Confused. Guilty. Dirty. Ashamed. As quickly as we all made our eye “contacting” we all looked away. Dumbfounded.
That walk back to the car… I think I tripped on my jaw the whole way. Looking back, I wish I had the daring then I have now. If I were ever in that spot again, I’d turn on my heel… put my hand on hip… cock my head to the left (or right) and say… “You bet yer sweet britches we’ll enjoy the fireworks.” And then he’d probably throw up in his mouth a little because I’m an old woman, but… that’d be his problem. Not mine.
When’d I get so sassy?
Love that story Jenny!
I think the older we get the more fun it is to say things to make the young’uns throw up in their mouth a little.
Awwww so sweet!
On a side note, I wanted to tell you to check out your google reader posts. Under your headers there is a bunch of words about xanex. Just thought I’d drop you a line about it. :)
HA! Love it. You and your husband should’ve said, “Oh, my god, we can’t wait. Let the fireworks begin!” and started making out full-on, with slobbering tongues and pawing and groaning.
Had you some Roman candles with those Trojan horse, eh? :)
You’re right though, we never think of the ‘good stuff’ until years later, dangit!
Blogging has that effect :-)
Not sure when your sassy happened, but I am dang happy it did. I am the Queen of Afterthought, but I am getting better. The older we get, the less we have to lose, of our life anyway. Bwahahahaha!
As a checker, I always look them right in the eye and say “HAVE FUN”
Good morning
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Bye