I refuse to take my husband to the grocery store. I don’t know if our marriage can handle it.
I knew when I married Rick that he liked to take his time. Every tiny detail has to be done just so. But little did I know that this tendency would so plague the rest of my life.
He is incredibly indecisive, although not in all areas of life. At least I hope not for his coworkers or his baseball team. But at the grocery store his lack of focus is the worst.
I go through the store, aisle by aisle. I am a list person. As I go down each aisle, I check the list and get all the items I need in that aisle while I am in that aisle. I may find a few extras I forgot to put on the list, but I get them while I am in that aisle. I am pretty organized, pretty annoyingly so.
Rick, however, does not approach grocery shopping in the same manner. We need peanut butter, so he goes to the aisle with peanut butter. He knows we need butter, so he goes to the aisle with butter. Then he knows we need bread to go with the butter and peanut butter, so he goes to the aisle with bread. Next, he remembers we also need milk, so he goes back to the dairy aisle to get milk. He crisscrosses the whole store five million times, taking five million minutes, taking five million steps. My patience only goes to about four and a half million.
The same goes when we are trying to leave the house. Rick is one of the last people out of the door because there is always one more thing he has to do. We could be ten minutes late -- he literally could have his hand on the doorknob -- and he would think of just one more thing he had to get before he could leave.
This tendency is also a problem when we are packing to go on vacation. I can get the bags packed and by the door, I can make him a list of all the things he needs to pack. But we will leave about an hour after I have scheduled us to leave because he just couldn’t get the bags in symmetrically. Or else the tie-down in the back of the pickup didn’t cover everything just so. Or else he doesn’t have the right pair of sunglasses. And we still will arrive, only to discover he forgot his best fishing pole sitting on the garage freezer. Last time we went on vacation, I left my daughter behind when I took the dog to the kennel. I told her, “Ride your dad. Keep him moving. Maybe he will be ready in a half hour when I get back.” Did it work? NO. I think it might be catching. Arg.
I pride myself on being quick and efficient. I make a mental list of what has to get done and in what order of importance these things should be taken care of. Rick was not born with this capacity, at least not in matters at home. Maybe he saves up all of his organizational skills for the office. I don’t know. I know he saves up bagels and cream cheese for work, maybe that’s where he keeps his organization, as well.
It’s funny to me sometimes, because this is one of Rick’s biggest gripes about our son. It can take Joe a half hour to get dressed for a baseball game. It’s the same problem all over again. He sits down and puts on his baseball socks, but then has to get back up to find his belt, and then his shirt. I used to think it would be better if I just turned off the TV. Now I realize it is genetic. It’s funny that we can become so annoyed by some character flaw in someone else, and yet we are completely blind to the plank in our own eye. I suppose it is God’s sense of humor. I also suppose it is why my mother’s constant talking drives me insane. (Sorry mom, I hope this isn’t completely new information.)
I see both boys doing the same things. They start out with all good intentions. But as they are in the middle of finishing one job, they think of something else they should be doing, and they start that job. But they never finished the first job. So when they get halfway done with the second job, they go back to the first job, cause, oh yeah, they were working on that first. And then while they are almost finished with the first job, they think of a third job, and they start doing that. I have walked into the garage to find my husband standing there, stock still, with his hand hanging in the air over a tool. He is staring into space, with a blank look on his face. I know he is trying to remember which job it was he needed that tool for in the first place. I hope it is not the Alzheimer’s (we both have it in our families) cause I call getting it first.
I know opposites attract, but come on. Some days I tell myself, for better or worse, for better or worse. After 18 years of marriage, I have adapted somewhat. We plan to get to something about 15 minutes early, then we can get there on time. The clock in his pickup is set 10 minutes fast (although the fact he knows this and adjusts somewhat defeats the fact). And I tell him we want to leave for a trip about an hour before we absolutely have to be hitting the bricks.
For now I will continue to do the grocery shopping by myself. It saves my sanity and my marriage. Maybe I will take him when the Alzheimer’s sets in. Who are you again and why are you holding my purse?
P.S. Rick says this is completely not true. Well, maybe some of it. But not all of it. Sure.
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