Reviews of The Wife's post on my Tartar mix up:
"Bahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!" - C.D.
"Ahhhhhhhh ha ha ha ha!" - B.K.
"HAHAHHAHA.........." - M.B.
"I'm still LOL!!!!!!!!!!" - G.V.
"LMAO" - C.S.
Okay, so here's my version. The Wife makes some amazing baked goods. Her holiday treats are truly like "eating Christmas". So when I'm asked to make a run to the market, at any hour, that may result in becoming a recipient of such baked goods, I'm all in. I try to keep up on what's used in the kitchen, and I've been included in enough excursions that I feel like I know my way around a grocery store. All of that experience amounted to precisely nothing recently, when I was asked to head over to our local grocer and pick up some Cream of Tartar for one of The Wife's latest baked creation.
I headed over and started to walk the isles I thought would be most likely to carry the one item I was there for. I spotted one of my favorite clerks, and asked him inquisitively, "Where might I find the Tartar Sauce?" He nodded and took me over to the sauce isle and showed me that while the store brand was out of stock, he had good news. There was a refrigerated version that was bigger, cheaper, and of a higher quality. With great pride in my find, I thanked him, made my purchase, and headed home. I lovingly placed it in our fridge at home and went about my business. The evening of the baking event, I heard The Wife's voice come from behind the refrigerator door, saying, "Awe, my mom left her ranch in here,......wait.....what's this?" I told her it was the Tartar Sauce she had tasked me with purchasing, beaming with pride as I informed her it was even BETTER than the generic crap I might have bought had I not consulted my network of grocery insiders.
There was a pause, and then her look of question turned slowly to a look of pity. I heard a soft , yet audible, "Awwweeee." I asked what was the matter and she quietly said, "I asked for Cream of Tartar, .........this is Tartar Sauce." I sat at the couch blankly. "................so?", I replied. I was informed that they were two different things, and felt the heat on my neck building. No man enjoys being wrong, and I'm no different. She chose another treat for the evening to make and life, somehow went on.
The event was immortalized in a FB post about sending hubby to the store and I was first angry, then hurt, then as the comments rolled in realized that I'm not alone. I'll never be alone. As long as there is a husband out there willing to head out at any hour to assist in the creation of baked bliss, I shall never find myself alone when confidently grabbing the completely wrong item off the shelf. Gentlemen, we must unite and be proud of our incorrect purchases. Women,......we have a short list of some things we'd like you to pick up from the hardware store. (wink!)
J.
"Bahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!" - C.D.
"Ahhhhhhhh ha ha ha ha!" - B.K.
"HAHAHHAHA.........." - M.B.
"I'm still LOL!!!!!!!!!!" - G.V.
"LMAO" - C.S.
Okay, so here's my version. The Wife makes some amazing baked goods. Her holiday treats are truly like "eating Christmas". So when I'm asked to make a run to the market, at any hour, that may result in becoming a recipient of such baked goods, I'm all in. I try to keep up on what's used in the kitchen, and I've been included in enough excursions that I feel like I know my way around a grocery store. All of that experience amounted to precisely nothing recently, when I was asked to head over to our local grocer and pick up some Cream of Tartar for one of The Wife's latest baked creation.
I headed over and started to walk the isles I thought would be most likely to carry the one item I was there for. I spotted one of my favorite clerks, and asked him inquisitively, "Where might I find the Tartar Sauce?" He nodded and took me over to the sauce isle and showed me that while the store brand was out of stock, he had good news. There was a refrigerated version that was bigger, cheaper, and of a higher quality. With great pride in my find, I thanked him, made my purchase, and headed home. I lovingly placed it in our fridge at home and went about my business. The evening of the baking event, I heard The Wife's voice come from behind the refrigerator door, saying, "Awe, my mom left her ranch in here,......wait.....what's this?" I told her it was the Tartar Sauce she had tasked me with purchasing, beaming with pride as I informed her it was even BETTER than the generic crap I might have bought had I not consulted my network of grocery insiders.
There was a pause, and then her look of question turned slowly to a look of pity. I heard a soft , yet audible, "Awwweeee." I asked what was the matter and she quietly said, "I asked for Cream of Tartar, .........this is Tartar Sauce." I sat at the couch blankly. "................so?", I replied. I was informed that they were two different things, and felt the heat on my neck building. No man enjoys being wrong, and I'm no different. She chose another treat for the evening to make and life, somehow went on.
The event was immortalized in a FB post about sending hubby to the store and I was first angry, then hurt, then as the comments rolled in realized that I'm not alone. I'll never be alone. As long as there is a husband out there willing to head out at any hour to assist in the creation of baked bliss, I shall never find myself alone when confidently grabbing the completely wrong item off the shelf. Gentlemen, we must unite and be proud of our incorrect purchases. Women,......we have a short list of some things we'd like you to pick up from the hardware store. (wink!)
J.
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