Clay went to the grocery store for me.
By that first sentence, you might think this is going to be a nice List Wednesday. You know, all the reasons why Clay is an awesome husband, or something like that. And while it’s true that I could write such a post, that’s not what is about to happen. You see, I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but sometimes men don’t think like women. And when they’re asked to pick up some cheddar cheese at the store, they notice that the big block in the dairy section is a greater value than the pre-shredded variety. Even though they’ve never seen the big block in the refrigerator at home, they buy it anyway.
I didn’t even know they sold it that way anymore. Who shreds their own cheese? Probably just social studies teachers who are giving a lesson on the foods of colonial America and Amish women and people who live in the mountains of Arkansas where there’s no Walmart shredded cheese aisle. Anyway, I wasn’t about to let any Amish woman outdo me, so I shredded that block of cheese…for about 24 seconds. Then my hand hurt, and I decided I don’t really care if the Amish women are better than me. I started thinking about how a nice paraffin treatment and hand massage would be later. I also began to worry what he might decide to buy the next time. If I put “soap” on the list, was he going to come home with lye? I better just go to the grocery store myself.
I would have made a terrible pioneer woman. Just one day before the cheese incident, I texted my neighbor to see if she had any chopped onion. Turns out, some people don’t buy the pre-chopped kind you can find in the freezer section. The conversation went like this:
The next thing I knew, her preschooler was at the front door with a bag full of chopped onion. They felt sorry for me, I guess, and decided to do the work for me. So it’s not just the Amish women who are better than me; my neighbor across the street is, too. I decided right then and there that if I had been a pioneer woman, I would have wanted my cabin to be built right next to theirs…or a couple named Jebediah and Rebekah.
cars. It’s not that I’m opposed to horses and donkeys as a form of transportation, it’s just that they smell bad. Also, you can’t kick those things up to 70 on the highway. I think 38 mph is about it. Ain’t nobody got time for that.
the DVR…remember when we recorded our favorite shows on VHS tapes? lim.
toenail clippers. Don’t laugh. If you just think about it, and maybe get a mental image, I’m sure you’ll agree.