One of my favourite comic strips played out this weekend. There's this Betty comic that I have on my fridge. It's old but it cracks me up every time. Why? I live it that's why.
Scott took the grocery list I keep magnetised to the fridge. Why? He wanted to do me a favour, that's why. When he came home I thanked him, put them away, I kissed him and did all the groceries again later. Why? Because everything he got was wrong, that's why.
See, when I put "meat" on the list, I mean "500g lean ground beef" not steak. When I put "cheese" on the list I mean the "family sized old cheddar", not havarti. Same goes for "flour". I mean "10k all purpose" not self rising. Ditto milk. Who drinks homo, anyway? I know what I mean when I'm vague. He's clueless, poor lamb.
We've been together long enough for me to clam up and say "thanks sweetie" rather than start a whole big thing about it. After all, he was trying to help, the poor dear. And at this time of the year more than any, it's the thought that counts. Right?