Trail Mix

Recovering from the cost of moving, we've been tightening our purse strings a lot lately.  Andy and I have had a few sit-downs discussing where we could sacrifice our spending to fatten up our savings.  This has resulted in him sleeping on the couch one night and me apologizing for my Salted Caramel Mocha Venti Decaf habit the next.  The truth hurts when it's staring at you on an itemized print-out, highlighted in pink (my doing, not his).

The next day we needed some groceries.  Not the whole shebang, just some bacon, eggs, and dog food.  Just saying the word bacon made me hungry so I asked if he could pick up some trail mix.

He gave me the look.

I gave him the really.

He continued the look.

I gave in and pretended like I had plans on chewing bark from a tree in the parking lot and some grass clippings if I wasn't full yet when we got home.  All in name of sacrificing to save us some money.  And perhaps my waistline if that's what his look was indicating.  Either way, this mama had steam percolating underneath her eyebrows.

Andy arrived back in the car about 20 minutes later with his two bags of stuff.  "I got you a surpriiiise," he sang. 

Aw man, now I feel bad for thinking up new curses to hex you with.

"It's in the back of the caaarrr," he wooed.

"Thanks, Honey, that was so thoughtf..."

"Scallops!"

"Umm, excuse me... what?"

"I got you a bag of scallops!"

"Scallops as in shellfish?" 

Yeah! They were on sale."

Mister McMiserson strikes again. 

"They're frozen so we can't eat them until tomorrow night."

I hate you.