Shopping Cart O' Fat

I have resigned myself to the fact that I am her everything. Unfortunately that job description includes doing things that don't seem even remotely awkward until I'm in the middle of it all.

For example - my lovely wife takes care of the house for the most part, including the general duties of bill paying and groceries. Her grocery lists contain the most vital elements that we need for our weekly menu. When I run out to get something small at the story, I'm often charged with retrieving those items necessary for her pregnancy to progress to the next stage.

Ice cream... check
Pepsi... check
chips... check
candy... check
chocolate (while technically candy, stands as its own food group)... check.

And then when I get to the checkout, all alone (sometimes with my daughter, but never the wife) I look into the cart and realize that the contents make me look like the lonely bachelor that has absolutely no clue what food really is. My cart is full of things that you're not supposed to eat.

And I have all of them. All at once. This is the point at which I try to make some funny comment about my pregnant wife sending me out to get her craving foods. The cashier does the "oooooooooh. ook."

Translation: "when was the last time you saw your feet, tubby?"

:P