I have already written a post about a shopping expedition I took the other day. It won't appear for a few days because I don't want to jinx things, but don't worry, it will appear.
Part of the post was my whining about how SH takes forever and ever to choose bacon.
Which is one the many reasons I hate to shop with him.
But yesterday, a miracle happened.
We went into the store, got a steak, a flank steak, and kosher salt all in four minutes. Then SH walked the wrong way - he just wanted to see what was going on in the bacon case, he said.
But the cats! I reminded him. It's 7:05 and the cats haven't been fed and Shirley will have knocked everything off the kitchen counter in her kitty rage. They eat at 5. They know when 5:00 is. They are not stupid.
This will only take a second, he told me.
He glanced at the bacon. Oh look! Patrick Cudahy double thick smoked bacon! I wonder if that's any good?
Probably, I said. We have yet to get bacon we don't like. There is some bacon that is better than others. I feel bad for anyone who can't get Pinter's bacon but oh well. You have to know someone.
He picked a package up. Looked at it.
And here's the miracle: HE PUT IT IN THE BASKET!
That was it.
He took the first bacon he picked.
Maybe he's sick. Maybe I should send him to the doctor.