There I stood.
Hot pink slippers. Heart-patterned bathrobe. Hair in a high bun. No makeup. Tired. And hungry.
In all my glory I watched my husband bring in the groceries. He does the grocery shopping these days. Thank the Lord. In my condition, if I were to go to the store - I would end up spending our entire budget on bags of Barbecued Fritos, ice cream sandwiches, kosher dill pickles, and orange pop. Because that is what I'm craving these days :)
So as my wonderful hubby is bringing in the groceries - I notice that he has a mischievous look on his rather handsome face. Hmmm. After he gets all of the food inside he takes off his coat, still grinning, and says, "I have a funny story for you."
"Alright", I say. "Let's here it."
He begins, "As I am putting the groceries in the back of the car, the boy that bagged my stuff walked up beside me."
At this point, I'm thinking, "Oh, he must have left something in the store and the nice bagger boy brought it out to him. How sweet."
But then he continued , "Now, don't get mad or anything, hahahaha.....but...."
Uh huh. "Go on", I say.
"Well, the bagger boy said that the cashier girl thought I was like hot or something and she wanted me to have her number. Hahahahahah! I told the bagger boy to tell the cashier girl that I am happily married and not at all interested. But isn't that hilarious?"
Ahem. Let's see here....I have a growing belly, acne on my face, dark circles under my eyes, hair in desperate need of some color, and crazy hormones raging. At any other time I might have laughed and said, "Awww that's cute! The little cashier thinks your handsome." But you see, I'm not exactly sane these days.
Soooo, after I downed a few of the snacks my hubs bought at the store, I went back to our room - actually got dressed (something that doesn't happen a lot these days), put concealer on all of my zits, brushed my hair (which doesn't happen all that often anymore, either) grabbed my purse (and a cookie) and headed for the door.
My husband says, "Oh no. Where are you going?"
I said, " Where do you THINK? The grocery store."
I pull into the parking lot - dab on a little lip gloss, of course - and head inside. I go through the store and grab some things my hubby forgot and I start looking for "Kaitlin the cashier." I know her name because I went so far as to look at who the cashier was on the receipt. Yeah. I did.
I didn't see her anywhere. "Darn it. She must be on break." So I buy my things and as I'm heading out the door I see "Kaitlin". I wanted so bad to stop her and say, "Didn't you see the wedding band on his hand, Miss Thing? Don't you think it was kinda childish to send the bagger boy out to the hot guys car to give him your number? Isn't it against company policy or something to hit on customers?"
But then, Jesus must have taken over or somethin', y'all. Because psycho pregnant chick wanted the cute little cashier to know who's husband she was messing with. But instead, I smiled at her and headed to the car. It would be a much more interesting story, I know, if I would have said something. But, it's good I didn't. We go to this grocery store a lot and I will probably run into little miss "hit on all the married guys" again. I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. I should just be thankful that I married a man who would never accept a phone number from a cashier (or anyone, for that matter) and who is hot enough to be pestered by one. Yeah. I'll take the high road on this one.
As long as I have me some fritos and orange pop to go along for the ride.