Square Peg ● Round Hole







I am not one to chat it up on my cell phone while casually walking around a store. First, I think it is rude to yammer on in public. Second, it is distracting, and I can’t remember items that I need to purchase. Plus, it’s 2019, I prefer to text. Anyway, the people in my family didn’t get my memo.

So, I am in the liquor store getting my beverage of choice that will travel to WKU for tailgating. My phone rings and it is my mother. Of course, I answer because, well, I am like a trained seal plus I don’t want to have to call her back later.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, honey. I got my blood work back. It is perfect, but he wants me to take something.”


“Yes. Name some things that he would want me to take. I can’t remember.”

I am looking around the store pondering whether they are providing liquor samples.


“No, not that.” Look, I don’t want to play the phone version of charades and I really want to get off of the phone.

“Well, you can tell me once you get it.” We chat a few more minutes and I promptly end the call.

I head to the pet store to purchase a spray that will help clean up the urine that I am drowning in along with a new water bowl. As I am perusing the selection of sprays that will not only clean the spot off of a rug, but will get rid of the odor, my spouse calls.

“Hey.” I answer. My tone is flat because I am currently immersed in the selection process.

“Hey. I am at Costco. They don’t have the chicken strips but they have……” If you haven’t read my blog on the chicken strip ordeal, please do. This week he has learned the difference between a tender and a strip. So proud of his progress. Anyway, he was listing all of these choices, since they “don’t” have the strips that I had found on a previous trip there. I am not convinced that they weren’t sitting right in front of his face in the frozen food aisle. I mean, how many times have I located shit in the refrigerator that he can’t “find”. I might have blacked out while he talked, and said yes to whatever because, at this point, I want to get off of the phone to finish my shopping.

I finally decided which spray to purchase and picked up the new water bowl for my four-legged family members, when my phone rings, again. I stop in the bird aisle, set my items down, and look at my phone. It is my spouse. I exhale heavily, my eyes roll in an exaggerated motion, and I answer.

“Yes.” I try not to sound annoyed, but, I don’t do a great job of masking my tone.

“What kind of dip should I get?” He lists off all the dips in the case. I am not listening for two reasons. One, I don’t care and two, I am not eating it.

“Get whatever dip you want.” My voice is eerily calm. I think maybe Brian is getting the idea that unless he is bleeding out, he doesn’t need to call me over every little thing.

When he gets homes, I share that I had to put my items down to answer his “dip” phone call and he asks why I didn’t get a cart? Gee, Brian, I only had two items, so why would I use a big ass cart for that? Oh, wait, to make it more convenient to answer a very important call about dips. Whatever.

Calm down everyone. I know it sounds like I am ungrateful that my spouse wants to include me on important decisions. Sometimes it is important to allow him the dignity of figuring stuff out on his own. It’s just another facet of marriage.