“Oh… when you go to the store, can you get some ‘honey turkey’? We’re all out.”
“Sure thing babe, I’ll add it to the list.” I reply.
I carefully write “turkey” below “toilet paper”, “string cheese”, “colored ice cream cones” and the endless number of other things we “need”.
Upon my return from the black hole known as “Wal-Mart”, I unload the mountainous pile of groceries I’d so effortlessly funneled into my shopping cart, ran through the checkout and piled so delicately on top of each other in the back of our Toyota Sequoia.
My wife grabs the turkey I’d been in the deli meat line for fifteen minutes to obtain, tears a small piece off and pops it in her mouth and almost instantaneously formulates a completely horrific look upon her face.
“What is this?” She unhappily blurts.
“It’s turkey!” I say.
“Uh… it’s disgusting! On the label it says this is ‘smoked turkey’! Didn’t you hear me say ‘honey turkey’?”
I smile sheepishly and my mind races.
“What do I say?” I think to myself! “Should I blame it on the deli-meat-slicer-guy? Should I say they were all out and I got the next best thing? Should I quickly change the subject?”
I go for the latter, “Look honey, I got your favorite toilet paper: Charmin!”
She looks at me through half-open eyes, “Babe. We buy Cottenelle.”
Not to sound ostentatious, but I think I’m a good husband, friend and all around cool dude.
But… I have a problem…
For some reason, I can’t remember what size eggs I’m supposed to get at the grocery store, what time DLG’s gymnastic practices are or where Bunny told me I could find that dress I’m supposed to return to Dillard’s for her. Yet… I can remember what bra size she wears, which brand of jeans make her ass look incredible and how many home-runs Juan Gonzalez hit for the Texas Rangers in 1996. It is an incredible phenomenon that I can remember how many inches of cleavage Bunny was showing me on our first date (three) but forget whether she told me to grab the dark green hair-bow or the lime green hair-bow for DLG!
This disability is a growing concern for me and my wife suffers the most. I HONESTLY feel horrible about it. For whatever reason, I’m unable to absorb THE DETAILS about anything that doesn’t pertain to boobs and baseball!
I know we’re supposed to be somewhere… but I’ve forgotten what time we’re supposed to be there!
I know I’m supposed to buy DLG a particular brand of diaper… I just can’t remember what brand it is!
I bring DLG’s sippy before our long car ride… but I forget to fill it with new milk!
I buy turkey at the grocery store… but I buy the wrong kind of turkey!
Do you see what I’m getting at? In a humoristic way I’m admitting that I, Papa K, completely and totally select the things I want to remember! I really have to make a conscious effort to remember the details!
So, switching gears, I know I joke about this, but I’m really honestly and genuinely asking all the other husbands (and wives) out there… do you have a problem with selective hearing as well?
Your thoughts and comments are greatly appreciated!
Don’t forget to ask me any questions you want! Just comment after this post! Answers coming this Tuesday (8/17).