Going Shopping
Good morning dear reader. I hope I find you well on this delightful morning. I know for some people, the heat is a bit too much to take. Spouse and I are just about coping and are trying to appreciate the lovely weather whilst we have it. No doubt, when we are in the depths of winter, we will look back longingly at these lovely days.
So, we have been shopping. Nothing unusual in that I know. Everyone does it, only going shopping with Spouse can be a risky affair. He has been thrown out of a well known department store for organising a protest due to the lack of chairs for the waiting partners to sit on whilst their better halves colonise the fitting rooms for hours on end - or so they claim.
Then there is the very unwilling shopper… as in, ‘no I really don’t need new clothes’, even though the rags he is wearing are falling to bits.
And then there is the very embarrassing shopper… ‘How much?’ he exclaims in mock indignation. I sigh in despair at this; does he really think he’s going to negotiate the price downwards with this attitude? No chance, Spouse. That might work for a market stall but not in a posh frock shop. Speaking of posh frocks,we had been invited to a birthday bash and I decided a new frock was the order of the day. Now don’t ask me, dear reader, why I took Spouse with me on this jaunt. I think because I wanted food shopping as well and so we made a day of it.
Grr… I am so never, never, never going to take him along again. What little devil prompted me to ignore all our previous clothes shopping history? I think a ‘senior moment' must have occurred.
We stopped off at a local garden centre first of all, as I wanted to buy a new water lily for our pond. All well and good, no problem there as this particular garden centre has an excellent pond plant section. But, of course, with an enormous shop to go at filled with delightful gifts and women’s clothing - how could I resist?
Resist I did not, dear reader. I ditched Spouse in the book section and headed off to check out the clothes. Well, I have to hand it to the store buyer, the clothes were terrific and I was spoilt for choice for a pretty dress for my birthday bash. Eventually I settled on a very pretty summer dress and matching little jacket and went to collect Spouse and then head for the check out.
Why do I never learn? No, let’s not go there. The shop was very busy and there was quite a queue at the checkout. Spouse eyed my shopping warily. ‘What have you got?’ asks he.
‘What does it look like?’
‘Expensive,’ he said gloomily.
It was our turn to check out. Pretty dress and jacket and a pond plant. Happy days.
The lovely lady at the till admired my dress and we were having a nice chat about the birthday bash it was for, etc., as ladies do and then with a beautiful smile she announced the bill for the lot
Spouse turned a whiter shade of white. ‘How much? It can’t be, for that bit of nonsense?’ Ooh, dear reader and so much more in the same vein. He missed his calling. I think he needs to join the village dramatic society.
Flustered, red-faced and angry, I smiled through gritted teeth and paid the lady, dragging Spouse out of the garden centre, ready to kill him right then and there.
No, I didn’t, dear reader. He is still alive, only by the skin of his teeth and I think, finally… maybe, finally, he has got the message to zip his trap shut next time we go shopping. Why? Because dinners at Comb Towers have not been so great since then; a bit boring and oh dearie me, smaller portions. Ha, Spouse is disappearing before my eyes and I think we might soon have a very harmonious shopping expedition in view.
As my dear Mother used to say, ‘there’s more than one way of killing a cat.’ Just a figure of speech I assure you but you get my drift.
Have a good week, dear reader. I’m off to survey my wardrobe, just in case it might need any additions….