Don’t take a bloke shopping, don’t. Lock ‘im up, throw away the key, whatever. But go solo, blokes don’t do serious shopping.
Blokes go on a Mission. To go where no female would dream of going.
Walk to shelf. Pick up item. Advance to the cashier’s desk. Go home.
Have a look round the shopping center...what do you see? Sad, sad blokes, parked on little wooden chairs, waiting for the Missus to reclaim them.
I’m always tempted to creep up and whisper “Run away…go on, leave her to it. Run!”
Don’t imagine for one glorious moment, that you can leave a bloke to carry out a few useful tasks around the house.
Sure, they will agree, and give you the 'nod' routine. 'Yes dear, no dear, three bags full, dear.'
Get a life.
Something Very Important, will have come up, while you were giving yourself a makeover.
“So sorry dear.” Just had to go and save the world, get anything nice dear? Yep. So sorry we are. Not.
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