Halloween
We drag our fire pit out to the front porch and wait like spiders for small children to come to us. At least, that's what it feels like at our house for Halloween.
This year Clay helped pick out our Halloween candy. As many wives of retired husbands find, having dad come with to Walmart is an alien experience. It's losing control, it's having someone pay attention to something you've had to do most of your life that everyone just assumed you would take care of. The biggest compliment was from Billy at 15 or so: "Mom, I just noticed we never run out of toilet paper." So sweet, so thoughtful.
Having a husband with opinions in a grocery store is like meeting someone from a foreign country and finding out you both have a few ideas in common. Like chocolate being the only real candy choice. I've always felt a little guilty about picking out only chocolate because it's not the cheapest. I think I've probably felt guilty about a lot of things that didn't matter simply because they've never come up in conversation during the two separate lives we've led together in the same house. It turns out chocolate was the right choice all along!
As was picking out the right husband back when, relatively speaking, he was a complete stranger. Before we had kids and bills and cars together. How does it happen that people do pick out the right person as often as they do?
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