Oh, the weird conversations my wife and I have, my Hordeling.
We had to get up early ad get out into the world, as my wife had to return some of the items she bought the other day. We made it to the store a few minutes before they opened, returned the items, looked at the purse (again) she wanted the other day, decided against it, and went on our merry way.
There was another store she wanted to shop at when we were making (what I thought was) the last rounds of shopping, but her back started bothering her so we skipped it. More shopping, a few more gifts bought and out the door we went.
It was as we returned home the wife made the opening volley in what would be our strange conversation.
“Bone-in pork butts,” she said out of nowhere.
“Bone-in pork butts?” I replied. Apparently there was a sign on the side of the road advertising them that I missed as I drove along.
“Yes.”
“Ah, I see. Sounds rather uncomfortable. I don’t now if I’d like bones stuck in my pork butt. I especially wouldn’t like either stuck in my butt.”
“The dogs would like them.”
“The dogs would like them stuck in their butts?”
“No, they would like chewing on them.”
‘Oh. Probably. I can see it now. ‘Dogs, would you like pork butts?’, ‘Do they have bones in them?’, ‘Yes.’, ‘Let us at ’em!'”
“We need to stop at the vet’s office on the way home.”
“Does the vet have pork butts?”
“We have to drop off the cookies we just bought.”
“I thought the cookies were for us.”
“No, they are a Christmas present for the vet.”
“Why don’t we get the vet some pork butts and keep the cookies?”
“No.”
Ultimately I lost the cookie battle, the vet got them instead of pork butts, and the dogs didn’t get anything. Such is life.
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