Today Doug set off to Walmart to buy ammo and a part for his gun. On his way out the door, he asked me if I needed anything.
“Actually yes,” I said. “Tuesday’s Valentine’s Day, and I still haven’t gotten cards for the kids’ friends in class. Tyler would like Spiderman, and Eva would like the Disney princesses. Or Tinkerbell. Or whatever fairy you can find.”
He raised an eyebrow at me and stared.
“Oh, and socks,” I continued. “I don’t care what they look like, as long as they don’t say ‘Faded Glory’ anywhere visible.”
“Aren’t those in the women’s underwear section?” was his dry response.
“Yes, somewhere around there. Oh, and one more thing,” I added. “Eva got her hundredth stamp on her point chart today, and I promised her a My Little Pony. Can you glance through the toy section and see if they have them?”
And with that, I propped a pink post-it in his hand and sent him on his way.
One of life’s little ironies: To emasculate a dog or cat, neuter him. To emasculate a man, give him a wife, kids, and a shopping list.