My instructions: take half our children with you and buy cubed meat, pork, chicken, beef, whatever your "pref-runce." And while you are there, could you please pick up some milk, coffee creamer, and bread.
This is what he returned with:
See my cubed meat? Deli fresh cut. Cooked. I just stared at him. "What? You said cubed meat. I even asked someone." Ok. Next time, specify, raw, or, cooked and overpriced.
He got the milk, the creamer, and the bread. And three different kinds of beer. And a bottle of wine. And some brie and crackers. And some funky Japanese "crispy noodle snacks". And some candy he found "in the Israeli aisle" (who knew?) And some tiramisu and some other kind of fattening chocolatey thingy. And jarred curry sauce (?). The cost? About a quarter of our monthly grocery budget.
The wine and brie and fancy crackers say it all. My husband knows my love languages are Words of Affirmation, Physical Touch, and Stinky Cheese. He's making a move on me.
And therefore, my bloggy friends, good night.