|"Sick? No, the water bottle just helps me deal with all the great ideas you have while I'm pregnant."|
I think it's only healthy to encourage one's husband to seek out hobbies. After all, I think, between detailing the bottom of the toilet and folding everyone's underwear, another hobby would be too much for me. Then again, if the budgeting works out in my favor this month, I think I might just jump on that Paint By Numbers course I saw they're holding at the Senior Center.
But, that's only if I'm good and don't burn all my "me time" on killing spiders in the laundry room.
So, when Husband said he'd like to join a skeet shooting team, and practice once a week, I couldn't say "no".
Shooting is manly.
Shooting is a skill.
Shooting says, "I can protect this family if the need arises. Like zombies, or a Nickelback concert gets setup too close to our house."
So, naturally, when Husband got home last night from his first session, the one thing I expected him to say was,
...."I need a fanny pack."
I rolled my beached self over on the couch. "What's wrong, Liza, you jealous because all the other guys' wives bought them new tights and we had to buy groceries instead?"
"No, I need something to carry my shells in, and I think that would be best."
"I agree. That would be best. But plutonium's so expensive, and I think it's just irresponsible to leave the kids here so we can go all the way back to 1992 again."
"Would you just come over here and pick one out with me?"
"Sure, but I don't think they even make them anymore. So the trip from the couch to the table may be risking my water breaking for a horrible fashion choice."
Husband smiled and pointed the computer, where Amazon already had a selection up and ready: striped ones, neon ones, ones that only back alley Tae Bo video tape sellers would see and say, "Now this blue spandex leotard won't seem nearly as out of place when I'm running errands or relaxing in my Papazan chair."
After a few minutes of looking, Husband picked out something decent...and I use the word "decent" so very loosely. "It's great."
"It was twenty dollars."
"Maybe I should have gotten the one that was for sale for a penny."
"Maybe you should've. But now I won't feel so bad when I buy that three hundred dollar vcr I saw on ebay."
In case you didn't pick up on it, today's status reads as such:
Baby: no baby
Fanny Pack: bought
Readers: worried about priorities at Kellerman household
Until Next Time, Readers!