Half Marathon!

I finished a half marathon yesterday. I went shopping with my wife.

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Shopping with my wife is always an adventure. She tricks me and I fall for it every time. It’s like Lucy with the football, always pulling the ball at the last second and leaving Charlie Brown on his keister. I’m the same way.

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There’s an outlet store about an hour from here, and she’ll talk me into going, with the promise of a treat, like fresh Mrs. Fields cookies. She says she wants to look in just a couple of stores. Right. A couple means a couple of dozen. She can’t help it. She’s just wired that way.

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So many women are shopaholics, but I also know some men who do similar things. The difference is that men usually know what they want, get in and out in record time. We don’t enjoy cruising the aisles over and over, looking at the same items again and again. We know and go.

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My wife will see something she likes, but can’t resist checking all of the other stores, just to be sure she’s getting the same price. Personally, I like that shrewd behavior. I just don’t want to be there. Get the cookies to go. I’ll heat them up when she gets home. Good as knew, and every one wins.

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Sadly, it doesn’t work out that way. My only solace is that she doesn’t have a purse. That’s the worst. You see many defeated men walking around the stores carrying the purse. It’s humiliating, to say the least.

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I get the fact that she doesn’t want to leave the purse unattended in the dressing room. I think every store should have lockers for purses. Men would love it, and women would feel secure, knowing their belongings are safe. It’s a win – win!

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My wife rarely tries on the items she finds, and in many cases, has to take them back. I think it’s the Lucy football game all over again because she hates returning things, so I must go with her. Obviously a trick.

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What are you going to do? If you refuse to go, you’ll be cut off and have an angry wife who spent more than she would have if you had been there, and you can forget the cookies. Ain’t gonna happen.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to begin training for the next half marathon.

See you tomorrow.

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