Our Grateful Life

I love you more than tank tops…

Here’s the thing. Last night, I needed to go to Target to buy spaghetti. I had the sauce, the meat and even garlic bread at home but managed to not even bother considering I might be out of a vital component of the spaghetti dinner. And of course, I was noodle-less. However, due to circumstances beyond my control, I was slightly distracted while at Target.

One: Stephanie’s good news. I literally clapped and cheered out loud when I read her comment. Thankfully, I’m prone to these bizarre outbursts of joy so no one took notice of another one. I immediately sent emails to our families confirming our Christmas plans now that my trip to Montgomery was finalized.

Second: I was on the phone with Mom and we were discussing the possibility of her getting her ears pierced. Considering she’s gone her entire life (and you can thank me later for not listing your age) without pierced ears, this is a little strange. There’s only one thing that can make a woman completely change her philosophy on something such as this: diamonds. She wants diamond studs and is willing to put holes in her ears to wear them. Goodness, I love that woman.

Third: There were tank tops on sale. I cannot resist the Target tank top. I wear one almost every day underneath something or other. By the time I saw the red sale sign, I was on the phone with Chris and attempting to make a mental note of the items he needed me to pick up. But really, can a girl be expected to remember something like beverages for her husband when she is standing face to face with a hot pink tank top? On sale? I think not.

Well, I completely lost focus. And just when I might have been able to regain my composure and remember to purchase Coke for my sweet husband, work called and I was again aboard the tangential express.

Twenty minutes later, I was at home cooking dinner when I realized I had completely forgotten Chris’ carbonated delights. He hits me with those sad puppy dog eyes and I immediately tried to defend myself.

“But there were tank tops. On sale.”

“Robin, you have a problem.”

“I know. But I love them so.”

“More than me apparently.”

“No, not more! I swear!”

Poor Chris. All evidence to the contrary, I’m afraid.