This past weekend, my in-laws watched Baby Badass. Since she was born (almost a year ago, now!) they haven't had an overnight with her, and we thought it'd be nice to have some time as just The Boss and I. We drove down to her parent's house on Friday afternoon, and on the way in we had to stop to get more Tylenol to help alleviate the pain from the never-ending teething process.
As I was wandering around the store I happened by the racks of condoms and other "family planning" supplies the store had in stock. There was a slightly disheveled man standing from of the display, muttering to himself. He would pick up a package of rubbers, scan the box for a moment, and then put it back on the shelf. Once I got closer, I picked up on what he was saying.
"Ribbed for her pleasure? What about my pleasure?" he said to himself.
With each package he picked up, he compared the merits of each. Ribbed, ultra-thin, flavored, latex-free, polka-dotted, glow in the dark... and yet none of them seem to have the qualities that mattered most to this guy. Other people in the store looked at him with raised eyebrows, and steered clear of him.
I eventually found what I was looking for, but by the time I was leaving with my purchase, he clearly didn't. He stormed out of the store in front of me, saying something about researching more online.
Nothing wrong with being informed, I suppose.
Happy Monday, folks.