On Sunday Rob and I went to a family picnic during which, in addition to macaroni and cheese, little ham sandwiches, and other typical picnic foods, I had three glasses of lemonade. On the way home we decided to stop and get groceries for the week. In the grocery store parking lot Rob leaned into my ear and whispered, "Um, do you see that woman? WHY would anybody wear that?" He tilted his head towards a large woman wearing a hideous skintight running suit. She was spilling out of it in every way possible. Rob continued, "I mean, that wouldn't be attractive even if it were the right size." I cracked up on the spot. Rob rarely makes mean comments, but I LOVE IT when he does. And this was even funnier because it was so true. I then made a remark about her camel toe, to which Rob scrunched his face in an expression that conveyed what can only be described as pain. I was still cackling with laughter as we entered the store.

All of a sudden, with the combination of lemonade and laughter, I had to pee ohmygodrightNOW. Rob was still muttering under his breath about the camel toe when I looked at him solemnly and whispered, "Stop. I have to pee. Seriously, you need to stop. I can't laugh anymore. And we need to hurry."

We grabbed apples and lettuce and headed down the row of freezers for broccoli, only to fall directly behind Camel Toe Lady. Rob and I exchanged a look and, of course, I started snickering. I didn't WANT to laugh, both because the lady would think I was a nutcase (not sure why I care what someone who leaves the house dressed like that thinks of me?) and because I HAD TO PEE.

I grabbed the frozen broccoli out of the case, still chuckling, and made a beeline to the coffee aisle. "Hurry honey, hurry," I called back to Rob. "Please, we need to make this quick."

(I realize grocery stores have restrooms, but I don't use them. They are not an option unless I am having a medical emergency. They are located next to the nasty butcher area behind the meat section, after all. Um, no thanks.)

Once in front of the coffee, Rob decided this would be a perfectly dandy time for him to consider OTHER brands of coffee that he usually doesn't buy. And then cost compare all of them. In every size of container. "Hmmm, this one is $3.94 a pound, and THIS one is $4.98 a pound, so obviously I should go with this one."

"Sounds great. Let's go."

"Ooh, but THIS one is an MVP buy, which makes it $2.34!"

"Clearly that's the one. Please, come on."

"Do you think I should get two of these since they are such a good deal? I probably should."

"Yes, two. Super. Come on."

"Wait, I also need to get some decaf." Rob smirked at me then, and I realized he was delaying intentionally. "You are such a bastard," I snarled at him. He grinned and, of course, I started laughing. Again, I didn't WANT to laugh, but the times you don't want to laugh are exactly when you laugh for no good reason.

After the 3-minute cost comparison of the decaf coffee we only had yogurt and beer left to buy. (Well, there were many more things on the list, but I had given them up long before. We were only going for the essentials at this point. And yes, our essentials include apples, lettuce, broccoli, coffee, yogurt, and beer.)

I hustled him over to the yogurt and had my supply for the week in the cart within 5 seconds. Rob stood there, contemplating his selection.

"I'm confused about whether this 5 for $1 sign applies to THESE or just THESE."

"Those."

"I'm not sure. It might be THESE."

"You don't even need yogurt. We have enough of the kind you like at home. C'mon, let's GO."

"But if the sign does apply to THESE, then I want to get them while they're a good deal."

And oh my google on it went. Same for the damn beer. "Hmmm, what do we want? Maybe we should try something new, you think?"

"I don't give a damn. Just get something."

"You pick."

"I don't even drink beer, Rob. I don't care."

"Let's see..."

"CORONA. Just grab the fucking Corona and let's GO."

Fortunately we made it through the line without event (other than Rob asking the bagger to bag things we NEVER have bagged, like the fucking Corona) and we got into the car.

The short drive home Rob sang along with the radio using stupid voices to try to make me laugh. Which I did. Against my will, of course.

FINALLY, we pulled into the garage. But I hadn't taken my purse to the picnic, so I was at his mercy to let me into the house. He opened the car trunk and started slowly taking groceries out. I stood there, legs crossed, glaring at him. "Oh, THAT'S right," he said. "You don't have your keys. Gimme just a minute here."

Bastard. I'm filing the divorce papers tomorrow.

Scene: Rob and Kelly are getting ready to go out. Rob has just stepped out of the shower and is digging through his sock drawer, naked. In doing so, he is inadvertently standing in front of the full-length mirror.

Kelly, fully dressed and ready for mirror inspection, walks over to Rob and looks at him expectantly.

Rob continues digging through the sock drawer until he feels her eyes boring into him. He looks up and raises his eyebrows in a "How can I help you?" expression.

Kelly: Hon, MOVE.

Rob's eyebrows shift to express momentary confusion.

Kelly: What? It's not like I came over here to look at YOU.

Mrtl's motif this Monday is feet. When I think of feet, I immediately think of shoes. Of course. So I did a photo essay of my five favorite pairs of shoes. For your viewing pleasure. (Click on any pic to see it larger.)

I'm not usually a leopard print kind of girl. But when I walked by these they said, in their best Austin Powers voice, "Grrr, baby, very grrr!"

My "black tie event" shoes.

My favorite Steve Maddens.

These shoes are the most comfortable shoes I own. Seriously. I wear them equally often with work clothes or to dress up jeans.

My secret weapon, the hooker boots. I have perfected The Sexy Strut in these boots. While I occasionally will pair them with a skirt, I usually wear them under pants. They make me feel very tall and powerful and are perfect for whenever I want to kick some ass. Or look hot.