Left Holding the Bag

He walked slowly, dragging his feet, possibly five paces behind her. His left arm was draped by her heavy brown coat, yellow double knit scarf and her over sized Brighton handbag. Its weighty gold colored lion-head clasp sat motionless guarding its contents. In his right hand, he held two paper shopping bags, each beautifully decorated in store logos. The sacks were filled; screaming "we're stuffed!" Turning around abruptly, she loudly commanded, "Sit here!"

The vinyl circular bench was in front of the Women's Dressing Room entrance. Robotically, he sat on the bench, and placed her coat, scarf, and the two shopping bags next to him. He breathed a heavy sigh. Using his left hand, and starting from his forehead, he pushed back some strands of his gray hair that had fallen forward from fatigue. He adjusted his wire framed eyeglasses. As he waited the five or ten minutes for his wife to return, his two hands gently swung her handbag between his legs; like a metronome keeping time.

She came out, annoyed with the world. "Let's go," she ordered. Haughtily, she pushed her way past the customers that were on line waiting to purchase their finds. Her superior attitude was balanced by her husband's kindness. "Excuse me, ladies. Coming through. Thank you!" As an A&S employee, I had witnessed many strange behaviors, over the years. This particular couple, for some reason, remained in my mind.

My dad never went clothes shopping with my mother. Never. He always had things to do. Yardwork. Repaint the fence. Prune the rosebushes. Trim the hedges. Repair or mend something broken. Spackle and paint a room. Fix the kitchen sink leak. Even if he were just to lay on the couch, all afternoon, (which was never the case) Mom knew not to ask, if he wanted to join us. He was just not that type of guy. Instead, she usually dragged my sister and me with her.

 So, I married Mr. P and wondered if he would turn out to be like my dad (showing no interest in joining me) or be like the patient gray-haired man who followed his wife around, like a puppy, while holding her bags. In the beginning of our married life, shopping with my husband was always fun. I did not have him follow me around nor hold my bag. I would ask for his opinion or for his choice, if I did not know which sweater to select and buy. We laughed and had fun clothes shopping in department stores. When the kiddies came along, one of us had to stay home to watch them, while the other went shopping..so naturally, I would go shopping solo. It wasn't much fun, but it was productive. I would send him shopping for toys, if 'toy gifts' were needed; for Christmas and birthdays. There is something about Toys R Us that appeals to men..go figure.

Which brings us to today. We are both retired. He still enjoys shopping for toys, now, for our grandchildren, and doesn't mind doing it himself. That works with me! Go! Enjoy yourself! However, shopping with Mr. P. at HIS favorite stores (Home Depot, Modells and Costco's) is NOT my cup of tea. I hate it, actually. These stores do not appeal to me. I'd rather sit home and munch on sour grapes. So, why does he insist that I go with him?! He doesn't. What usually happens is, in the car, he remembers that he NEEDS a new LED bulb and rather than sit in the car, I go in the store with him. Why?! Do I think that something NEW has happened to the store..like they've added a 'shoe department' or something?!

And as much as I don't like shopping with him, in HIS stores,..he doesn't mind shopping with me, or so he says. But what happens? I'll tell you..He stifles me!! I am browsing for something new to buy; that's what women do..they LOOK for something TO BUY! What does he do? He leaves the store! Or he starts walking away from me. His silent message? "I'm bored"/ "Let's leave." I hurry and make my purchase leaving "aisles unseen!" Mr. P will never be that poor old man holding his wife's bag, because we don't shop together, anymore.  My steady shopping partner is now ..Benjamin F. He never rushes me. :)   

Peace