You’re in a grocery store. It’s a
small one, not the hypermarkets they have in other countries. This is a small
neighborhood store, like they used to have in the old days, when people shopped
every day for the daily necessities of life: bread, milk, a cutlet, a can of
tomato sauce, cheese.
You’re looking for fat free/lactose
free milk for your wife. She only drinks fat free for reasons of weight and
lactose free for reasons of intolerance. But this is a small store and they
don’t carry such fancy items. It is past eleven at night. You’re not about to
go looking for fat free/lactose free milk at this time of night in this storm.
But she needs her milk. She’s pregnant.
Right. And that’s the other problem.
She’s going to have another child. You’re going to have another mouth to fee.
As if four weren’t enough. Not counting you and her. Why do you need a fifth
child? Because she likes children. You
know I like children, she always says. So what? Does that mean you gotta
have a dozen? She stays home and you have to go out slaving away the best years
of your life to feed and clothe all the children because she loves children.
You walk up and down the aisles, the
refrigerated section, but nothing. Should
I buy regular milk you ask yourself. She’ll yell and call you names and
then you’ll have to go out again and find the right milk. You better go find it
now. Go to that big store that’s open 24 hours. Just take the car, drive and
find it. Buy the right milk and go home. She’s waiting. She gets impatient when
she waits. Go to the right store and get the right milk. Then go home to the
kids and wife. Just go. Go home. But not before buying the right milk. Hurry.
Your wife is waiting. And she can get very impatient. Especially when she’s pregnant.
She gets so moody. One minute she’s fine and the next she’s crying and then
yelling. Just go and buy the right milk and go home. Just do it.
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