Most Thursday evenings, Chris takes Mac to the grocery after our dinner so I can finish cleaning the upstairs. This way the house is completely clean (for 15 minutes) and we have plenty of groceries for the week and our weekends are free to spend time together.
We’re livin’ the dream, let me tell you.
Now, I’m not sure exactly what goes down in the grocery at about 8PM on a Thursday night, but I’ve spent enough time with Mac to know he’s a complete ham. So if there’s another living soul in the endless aisles of over-priced, over-processed foods, he’s sure to try to charm them.
Last night Chris came home particularly riled up. (And not just because we were supposed to be sitting on our waterfront balcony eating room service.)
Chris: “We were in the checkout line and some lady was going on and on about how cute Mac is.”
Deni: “Awww. . .He is a cute little guy.”
Chris: “So then I finally say to her, ‘It’s no thanks to me. He looks nothing like me.'”
Here we go again. It’s true, Mac has curly fairer hair and skin and blue eyes and chubby cheeks and sturdy little legs like his Mother. Chris is thin and has beautiful brown eyes and lovely cheekbones.
Chris: “And do you know what she said?”
Deni: “What did she say?”
Chris: “She said ‘but he has your eyes.’ My EYES!! It’s like she didn’t even LOOK at me! I don’t think she even bothered to look at me before she made that comment!”
Deni: “Don’t worry honey, she’s probably just colorblind. Or maybe she means, your kind eyes. . .The kind, gentle expression you have. . .Oh hell, I give up. . .”