Repeating the Sounding Joy

Since the creeping, croupy crud still has me in its grip, Dearly Beloved volunteered to go shopping for me Monday.  Let me hastily clarify that by “going shopping” I mean driving to a toy store– not a chain giant, but a local store in a nearby shopping strip– to pick up an item I’d ordered.  They’d called to say that their shipment had arrived.

DB is not a stupid man and it’s a good thing that I remain firmly convinced of that because when he goes shopping, he does everything he can to disabuse me of my convictions in that regard.  He leaves his brain at home and takes his cellphone instead.

I had explained to him that the toy is a Nanoblock set–micro sized pieces which, when assembled, make a 3-D building that will fit in the palm of one’s hand.  I read about them and thought they might be nice for the grandson who loves assembling Legos–one time per set only–then wants to enshrine the completed masterpiece.  These will take up only a little shelf space so maybe he can do that, if his younger brothers don’t have other ideas.

When I put my name on the waiting list, the toy store didn’t have any samples for me to see, so I didn’t request a particular model.  I tell DB that he has authority to choose and while he’s there, maybe he’ll see anything else the grandsons might enjoy.  He heads to the store.

Ten minutes later, the phone rings.

“Guess who.”

I was expecting this call, not because he should need help, but because that’s the way he operates; under the influence of the planet Mars.

“Do you want the ones in the pouch or the box?”

Since I’ve never seen either and he is looking at both, why am I the expert here?  He knows the grandson’s taste and abilities.  Ovaries are not crystal balls.

I ask him which one has a set that Grandson would have the most fun assembling.

He is less than enthusiastic in his response, probably turned off by the tiny pieces.  In DB’s world, anything smaller than a golf ball is a waste of raw material.

“Which building do you want me to get?”

Didn’t we discuss this before he left?  My toenails are starting to loosen from their nail beds.   Déjà vu–all over again.  We talk.  I can hear the clerk chiming in occasionally.    Perhaps her toenails are beginning to curl, too.  Eventually he tells me that okay, he’s got it straight and ends the call.

Ten minutes later, the phone rings.

He wants to give me a play-by-play, even though I was there via phone for most of his visit.  He didn’t see anything else that really “got” him and besides, it was a madhouse in there.  All these women with babies in strollers and grandparents who have no idea what they’re doing.  He says that one old fart was walking around with his hands in his pockets, two rows behind his wife, and she’s talking to him the whole time, knowing he’s not hearing a word she’s saying.

I feel an immediate kinship with this unknown woman.

“I was the only one in the whole place who knew what he was doing.”

He offers to tackle the Chick-fila drive-thru if I’d like something.  I would.  I want a chicken sandwich, but will he get me a small vanilla milkshake with no toppings so that I can have it later.  It will feel good on my throat.  We disconnect.

A few minutes later, the phone rings.

“All right, I’m in line.  What do you want?  The usual?”

Yes, but…  I repeat–once more– that I would like a small vanilla shake with no toppings.  No whipped cream, no cherry.  Small. Vanilla. Milkshake. He tells me he’s at the speaker now, so we hang up.

A few minutes later, the phone rings.

“Okay, I’m on my way home.  I got you a peppermint milkshake. I thought it would feel better on your throat.”


13 thoughts on “Repeating the Sounding Joy

  1. Sharon

    When I send my DB on an errand (well, that never actually occurs, because he will only get something for me if he is already at that location), like to Lowe’s…I also get a play-by-play. It’s a man thing! They like to feel they are making the decisions, but really, they cannot! Sorry, DB, just saying’.

  2. Jule

    I tell my husband, “Don’t call me every time you fart! Figure it out!” Of course, he calls. Yup, we are all arrived to the same man!

  3. My husband’s ability to shop begins and ends with our local hardware store (owned by the Mayor in fact), the wine section of the grocery store, and the State liquor store. Actually, I take that back…he also drives to a Fresh Market in a nearby town on Friday to buy the meats for grilling on the weekend. He buys steaks that are so hunking thick they resemble roasts. That is so he can enjoy a steak sandwich the next day.

  4. Marcie

    I just checked to see if my DH was actually here. I had the exact same type of experience with him yesterday. But I can’t complain- he bought me all kinds of treats this summer when I was going through chemo-except the plain vanilla shake I asked for!! Gotta love them!

  5. Ovaries may not be crystal balls but my family seems to think mine have a lost item GPS.

    Maybe ovaries are a short term memory enhancer too.

    And why do we keep answering our phones?

  6. When cell phones were new and our good friends got them, we asked them how they changed their lives. Without hesitation one of our friends said “I used to make my own decisions. Now I call up in the grocery store to ask whether she wants pork or beef.”

    And I STILL don’t own one!

  7. We just want to make sure that you get exactly what you want, unless we see something that we think you might want more. It’s a love thing.

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