In less than three hours my wife and I will abandon our children and go to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1. I don't know what the record is for the most pairs of pants ruined in a single day due to uncontrollable bowels, but I'll bet I'm pretty close to breaking it.
On a less gross note, I've come to understand something my wife has been aware of for years: I am not to be trusted at Sam's Club. I used to work there right around the time Betsy and I got married. I was a fork-lift driver, pulling down pallets of giant bags of rice and dog food and couches and whatnot. It wasn't my favorite job ever and I didn't stay for very long. But we were rather fond of the money-saving that went on there, so we have remained members ever since. I remember that we laughed and laughed at the picture on my Member Card because it was all squashy and it made me look way fatter than I actually was. Now, more than eight years later, it looks about right.
The other day I was running some errands, one of which took me to Sam's Club. Betsy had given me a very short shopping list and, apart from a bottle of Irish Cream and a pair of very fluffy pajama pants, I was doing a great job sticking to that list. Until I passed a pallet of Oatmeal Cream Pies. Industrial-sized Oatmeal Cream Pies. Three bucks for twelve enormous wheels of heavenliness? Don't mind if I do.
I was so overwhelmed with visions of me gorging myself with Oatmeal Cream Pies, throwing them in the air and letting them rain down upon me, rubbing them over my naked chest, and generally doing any number of inappropriate things with them that I didn't even linger in the candy aisle (which I have been known to do with disastrous results).
They should station people at the door to assist will-powerless husbands with their shopping. They could be called Shopping Chaperons or List Liaisons or the Pallet Patrol or Bulk Buddies. But then they would be kissing millions of dollars in annual revenue goodbye. It's amazing how much impulse buying you can do in a place where they sell drums of cooking oil and crates of staples.
Thank you,
Matt Beers
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