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I have only one piece of advice for you, but it’s an important one. Which is why I’ve devoted an entire post to it.
I’m gonna let that sink in for a while.
Many of you, I recognize, have made your own discoveries about the perils involved. Perhaps you’ve learned this lesson, as I have, the hard way. Maybe, just maybe, you innocently sanctioned your husband’s solo mission to Costco saying, “Thanks, honey. That’d be great if you could pick up the refrigerator-size box of diapers, the 78-roll pack of toilet paper and a drum of pickles for me.”
I mean who couldn’t use an extra hand, and if honey is willing, nay, eager to pitch in, the opportunity is all the more alluring.
But I’ve been burned, people. I’ve been singed not once but twice, which may suggest I am the one at fault. I should’ve known better – and I did. But I was desperate. Desperate, I tell you, and I just hoped this time would be different. This time it was possible.
I was wrong. And that’s why my husband is banned from Costco.
It’s not that I wanted sole control over Costco duties. I’d gladly take Kevin’s assistance if he were capable. He isn’t. During our first year as members, every time Kevin ran to Costco he returned with a flat screen T.V.
The husbands never just stick to the list. They deviate. They think on their own, and that’s the problem.
I’m trying to provide a sense of scale here. Notice the five-pound bag of “organic” (because I like all my stale bread to be organic) croutons is larger than anything normally found on a table?
Even if you really, really liked croutons, could you eat five pounds of them? I mean, that’s a lot of salad, and I’m pretty much the only person in this household who likes salad. I’m not, however, that fond croutons.
The rest of my family likes croutons but not salads. They eat salad because I force them, but they’d rather not, and whenever Kevin decides he’s going on a diet, the salad is the first thing to go. He might have a big, fat burger with fries for lunch, but he’ll cut out the salad because he’s trying to eat light.
Then we have the 2,000 Q-tip quandary.
Nobody in the house uses Q-tips except Kevin. Each package contains 625 Q-tips, and they come in a two-pack. That’s over a thousand Q-tips. Does any one person really need that many Q-tips?
I like Costco and I love getting a deal, but sometimes Kevin’s purchases like Costco itself are more than any one person, or family of four, can take.
So please, head my warning and save yourselves.
Don’t forget, I’m more fun on Facebook. Join me.
Also, if you like this you will love my book, I STILL JUST WANT TO PEE ALONE, the third installment in The New York Times best-selling series from some of the funniest women on the web. For a good time get it on Amazon, Kindle, iTunes and Barnes and Noble. I will love you forever.
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