Sunday Groceries

We did our weekly run to Krogers on Sunday; we usually go on Saturday but Carlos had to work and, well, we like to go together because we each have our separate chores to do when it comes to the grocery shopping.

I make the list.
I get the coupons.
Carlos gets our reusable bags from a hook in the garage.

Carlos drives.
I hang on for dear life.

Carlos goes to the deli for a pound of turkey and a pound of Swiss.
I get everything else.

It's a system that's worked for eight-plus years, so who am I to try and change it now?

Anyway, we're in the car heading down Country Lane and talking about this and that. Circuit City has gone belly-up and we need--we don't need, we want--a new flatscreen TV. We talk about going into Circuit City and looking, but I wonder if we should be spending that money now. I wonder if we buy a TV from Circuit City and it doesn't work, how do I exchange it or get my money back.

So the kibosh goes on the TV.

Then Carlos does his weekly grocery shopping chant.
We need to win the lotto. Repeat ad nauseum.

I see a gorgeous Audi A4 convertible and tell Carlos that when we win the lotto we'll buy one of those. He says we're going to buy, get this, a helicopter. He wants to fly a helicopter.
But you can barely drive without sending me into cardiac arrest.
I want a helicopter.

Eyes roll. grunts grunted.
We shelve that discussion until one of us is more rational, and go into Krogers.

He deli's it; I shop. He catches up with me and begins to drive the cart around the store, still muttering about the helicopter and how he can go zoom-zoom all over the place.
It's the idea of him zoom-zooming anywhere that terrifies me.

Then it happens.

Mister Helicopter drives a shopping cart into a display of dried soup.
And this man wants to fly?

I'll notify you when we win the lotto so you can all run for cover!