SHOPPING with the wife. Be honest. Retired blokes dread it. But we all have to do it.
I had spent several hours with Jacqui shopping for Christmas presents (we are still in November 2012). I was baffled by miniature replica US ‘gas’ pumps on sale in one store. What was the point of them?
I discovered that the front could be opened, to reveal four (very small) shelves. Far too small to hold anything useful. So, no point to them at all, then.
On we moved to the next store. There was the usual background music playing. Without knowing I was doing it, I started tapping one foot to the music. A shoulder may have inadvertently twitched.
“What on earth are you doing?”
“Come on, we’re going home.”
The mortification of watching your husband dancing to the in-store muzak is greater than the appeal of shopping.
A useful tactic to deploy in moments of over-shopping distress.