This past week Randy and I had made our 3rd trip of the week to Walmart for the things we forgot the first two trips. On our way, I happened to mention that I wonder if the guys working the security camera have names picked out for us as we walk in the store. “Oh here comes the couple who must not have enough doctor visits on their calendar to keep them busy. They either both have alzheimers and cannot remember what they came for or they eat so much they don’t have room in their house or fridge to buy everything they need in one shopping day. We should give them a name like, “Triple Trips” or “Shopping Cart Sweeties”. Seriously, I can only imagine the conversations that go on in the camera room. “oh my gosh, look at what they are putting in the cart, and they wonder why their butts are bigger than our aisles.” or “do they really think they can put on that $3 t-shirt and look like they walked out of Target? Please lady, put back that sleeveless shirt and walk away, your arms are still moving from you stopping the basket 5 minutes ago. Just head on over to the sweaters and cover up those awful upper arms with as much material as you can stand in the heat.”
As we arrive at the store we do out best to find a parking space that will help us get to 3000 steps on our Fitbit. As we head down the frozen food aisle, there is the end of the rainbow. Randy does a double take and comes to a screeching halt. There, down in the middle of the aisle is a man who is unloading a pallet of Blue Bell ice cream. The look on Randy’s face told me that his dreams of finally having BB back in Phoenix has come true. He doesn’t have to wait any longer. We stroll over to the freezer trying not to act like our lives have had no meaning for the year we have lived here. There, in the freezer compartment just staring back at us is the ice cream that is like no other. I tell him to just take it all in. Look over all of the flavors and pick out his favorite flavor. He looks at me and informs me that “no, he doesn’t want to put it in the basket just yet.” Why? why is he not buying the thing that keeps him writing to Blue Bell once a month asking when are they coming back to Arizona. He told me that he will finish shopping, pay for our groceries then before we walk out the door, he will come back to the ice cream aisle and get his precious treasure, pay for it and then, we will leave. Truly I thought he was joking. It was at this point that I began to tell him that he didn’t take this much time picking out our wedding rings. Things began to escalate. Thinking that I could go ahead and grab some items while he stayed and drooled over the ice cream section, I walked away just shaking my head. Seriously, I began to remember us picking out rings 22 years ago and remembered that as I was trying to pick out just the perfect ring, he stood beside me and coaxed me to pick out the ring that didn’t make my butt look big. His sense of humor has always been a little off.
But here we were, finally completing our third trip of the week and all checked out. He pushed our cart to the part of the store where I usually stop on our way out and buy a huge bag of popcorn at the Subway counter before exiting the store. He told me to “take a load off” (man is he getting so romantic now that he has his Blue Bell back) and he would be right back. So I sat and wondered just how many half gallons of Blue Bell he would come back with. I watch him, as he goes to the self check out (which he will NEVER go to when I want to hurry) with his precious half gallon of The Great Divide, which for those of you who are not Blue Bell groupies, is half chocolate and half vanilla. He walks quickly toward me with his ice cream in hand and tells me to hurry and lets get the groceries loaded and get home before any of the ice cream melts. I told him I had not seen him move this fast since…well, actually ever! For those of you who know my sweet husband, you know how slow he walks. We speed home, yes, speed home, not even worrying about a possible ticket, and he grabs the ice cream from the back seat and as I’m hauling in the groceries, I walk in the kitchen to see him standing over the half gallon with the biggest spoon we have. His life is now complete. His Blue Bell is back and life is back to normal. He just took the whole container to the den and told me that he was not to be disturbed. I told him, I thought he was already disturbed.
Yes, life is good and I once again have a sweeter and more gentle husband. All it took was a gallon of ice cream and a flavor called The Great Divide. Maybe I’ll take him to look at new wedding rings. He might be in a little more of a shopping mood than he was years ago.