Walking The Aisles

by good2begone

Growing old together takes sacrifice.

It takes patience.

It takes doing things that your wife asks…..even though you know you have no business doing them.

And here’s how I came to that conclusion…..

We made our weekly trip to the grocery store today.

The last day of the month and “the WalMart” are not a good combination but when you gotta go….you gotta go.

Anyway, as I follow my wife and stepdaughter up and down each aisle at a painstaking snails pace,

(Not because it was busy, but because they are both ingredient checkers and for whatever reason my wife ( who blogs as foreverpaused) decided that the grocery cart had to be loaded Rain Man style, which means she’s down with OCD…yeah you know me!)

We notice an extremely old man bending over to look at something on a shelf.

He randomly asks my stepdaughter,

“Are there table crackers on that shelf?”

We were on the cereal aisle.

Before, she replied with a wise yet inappropriate teenage answer, I step in.

“What can I help you with, sir.” I ask.

“My wife sent me to the store to get this stuff….I can’t see and don’t know where to find everything.”

I proceed to take him to the right aisles, read the list for him, and complete his task, while the ladies of my clan continue on with our list.

I made sure he made it towards the register and then caught up with my wife to clear up a few things…..

“If you ever….and I mean ever…send me to the store by myself when I can’t see and I’m 90 I’m gonna be so pissed that I will probably end up like one of those ‘get off my lawn’ guys. I’m sure all you woman think it’s funny to send us places we have no business going to just to know we will because you ask.” I angrily state.

She replies,

“You can’t place wholesale condemnation onto every married woman because of 1 incident. That’s not fair! Besides, I love going to the grocery store with you.”

I mutter some obscenity under my breathe and then reply,

“Yes dear.”

About 9.6 seconds later as we are browsing through the cheese section, a shopping cart slowly passes us.

The caretaker of the cart is a man who is hovering around the century mark and has a short list in his hand.

No wife to be seen for aisles.