The darndest thing happened on Monday after RJ and I got back from our regional staff meetings.
We made a late-night trip to the grocery store.
And rather than RJ pestering me and transforming the shopping cart into a race car with race car noises…
Or performing evasive maneuvers and throwing paper towels in the aisles to “evade” me (which I always make him pick up. I don’t give in to terrorists.)…
Or throwing unnecessary items into the shopping cart just to pester me…
Or sneaking candy into the shopping cart and then innocently exclaiming at the checkout line, “How did those get in there??”…
Or running away and hiding when he sees me… (I swear, it’s like shopping with a 3 year old)
Or asking “What else do we need? Can we go yet?” every five seconds like a little kid…
I was the one making race car noises with the race car shopping cart.
And throwing unnecessary items into the shopping cart.
And sneaking candy into the cart.
And running away and hiding.
And asking, “What else do we need?” every 5 seconds.
And had we gone down the paper goods aisle, I would have thrown paper towels and tissue boxes into the aisle. But I think I did tortillas instead.
I did it.
It was ME.
Yet even stranger, RJ was the “responsible” and “serious” one (just imagine those two words in an emphatic, mocking tone of voice), which I should have caught earlier, when he was so carefully compiling a grocery list after researching various recipes online that he wanted to try and make for dinner this week, while I asked him pestery questions and tried to get his attention.
What in the world has working full-time in Los Angeles done to us??
And is this going to be forever??
Actually…I wouldn’t mind that.
(By the way, this is what RJ made for dinner two nights ago: sweet potato and black bean tacos with homemade salsa. SERIOUSLY. DELICIOUS. He’s definitely a keeper!)