I managed to con Mr W into running errands with me on Sunday.
Partially because I wanted him to be aware of how much a trip to Costco really costs...so he'd understand why I blanch at his suggestion "Let's go out to eat" after I finish grocery shopping. (You just can't have it both ways with this many kids and that little money. Seriously. Dude.)
We were in PetsMart (the dogs eat too) and as we approached the checkout, he gestured for me to go in front of the cart. "Is this your way of saying I'm buying?" He nods. (I like to think it's just because he likes the view walking behind me. Or he's being a gentleman. Ladies first.)
"Why did I bring you along?" I sass. "Oh, I seeee. You're the muscle on this trip." (It was a big, hernia-inducing bag.) He nods as he says, "No."
I cock my head to the side, grinning, "Aaaahh, you're the eye candy, then."
He answers, "As long as you recognize I'm the eye candy that sits in the bottom of your Nana's purse, all covered in lint."
"Those always were my favorite," I giggle, as I turn to pay.