THE COUPLE WHO SHOPS TOGETHER...SHOULDN'T SHOP TOGETHER

As with most couples who have been married 21 years, or more, Paul and I have been through a lot together. We've made it through things that are known to tax a marriage. We are not without battle scars; but we've come through.

We have built two houses together and loved every bit of it, having had no major disagreements nor threats of divorce throughout the process each time. In fact, if not for having to sell the existing house, and actually having to MOVE, we'd build again, and again, and again. Well there's also the money thing....

We have managed career changes, a job loss, business travel, business travel, and more business travel; and somehow managed to still LIKE each other.

We have helped each other carry the baggage of childhood sadness and emotional trauma that was brought into our marriage.

We have wall papered rooms together and managed to come out without slitting each others' wrists with that blade you use to press out the bubbles.

We have suffered the heartbreak of two miscarriages.

But also experienced the magic of childbirth - times two.

Between us we have buried 6 grandparents and one father.

We have seen our children make poor choices, watched the consequences come tumbling down around us and somehow found a way to pick up the pieces, continue to show love and mercy and JUST. KEEP. GOING.

We have entered the"Sandwich" phase of life, where our parents and children seem to need us almost equally.

We have worried about money, fretted over report cards, dealt with health issues, lain awake watching the clock to make sure somebody doesn't break curfew; and asked countless times "Are we doing this right...?"

We have laughed together. A lot.

We have watched our children be disappointed, and held each other back from rescuing them when it is simply best to let them swim out of the sea of sadness on their own power.

We've been through a lot, as have most couples. And we are blessed that somehow we seem to have found a way to make it all work.

Except.

We cannot shop at Sam's Club together.

No, Really. We can't.

But we do. Go to Sam's Club together that is. Mainly because I like him to come and lift the heavy beverage cases onto the cart ever since I had my excruciating shoulder injury a year ago. Sometimes Blake will go but usually I drag Paul along.

Because I love to do romantic things like that with my husband

And he doesn't like it. Because he doesn't like to go anyplace that requires spending money.

Oh he never complains. There is no overt hostility on either part. Just a tension so thick you could cut it with a knife from the Sam's Club meat department.

Because I like to buy more things than he likes to buy. And when I put something in the cart that he thinks is totally unnecessary, he never says anything, but he does this thing with his eyes and I know he's THINKING it. Whatever "it" is.

But it starts as soon as we walk in the door and the Membership Card Checkers meet us. Except they don't always meet us. And if we start to walk on through and one of them sees us too late, they start yelling at us "Sir! Ma'am! I need to see your card...!!" And then Paul gets irritated that they aren't doing their job. If they were doing their job, they'd see us immediately and not have to chase us down. And if they happen TO NOT SEE US AT ALL, I say "Honey, we need to show them our card" and he'll say "I'm not going to hunt somebody down so I can show them my card just so I can shop here. If they aren't at their post...." as he's waving his card above his head and behind his back so somebody can catch a glimpse of it as he continues on his way, unhindered by ridiculous club rules.

See, I'm all about following rules and he's a rebel.

And it's really bad when we take the kids and they ask for things like...oh...a big strawberry cream cake, or a giant box of cinnamon rolls that would feed the local football team. They know they are not going to get it if Dad's with us. Then they start saying things like "Next time, let's leave Dad at home so we can get fun stuff." And I'm stuck in the middle because I know they're right, but I have to keep to keep my mouth shut so we, as good parents, present a united front.

Plus, I totally need their dad to help me carry the heavy stuff.

I, on the other hand, have severe stock-up issues and have no problem buying two giant jars of peanut butter, a bottle of 750 acetaminophen tablets, a box of 154 cheese slices, and a 5 pound bag of broccoli florets.

The only thing Paul thinks should be bought in bulk, besides water and Gatorade, is ranch dressing, because he thinks it is one of the major food groups. Seriously, he practically treats it as a beverage - just like pancake syrup.

Then there's the "Receipt Checker." Paul absolutely hates the Receipt Checker at Sam's Club. He doesn't hate the actual person, just the job they have to do. I can feel him start to get irritated as soon as we turn the cart in that direction and I start holding my receipt out for the Receipt Police to make sure I haven't stolen anything. He starts to mumble and I hear the words "ridiculous" and "waste of time."

And so, at the end of each trip to Sam's Club, I walk out feeling guilty for buying so much, while at the same time, planning my week so I can come back soon to buy the giant jar of cashews and the big plastic tub of grapes that he was sure would spoil before we ate them. You know? Come back without Paul. And I inevitably say something like "This drives you crazy, doesn't it? I bet you'd rather be wallpapering an airplane bathroom with me than going to Sam's. Or having a root canal. It's just not something we do well together, huh?" Because I usually can't keep my mouth shut when silence would indeed be the best option.

And he usually says something like "Well....no, it's really not the best thing for us to do together..." Then he probably starts wondering "Why? Why on God's green earth, did we have to build our current house 2 minutes from Sam's Club? Why did I have to marry a woman with such neuroses? Do they have Sam's Club in Europe? Because if they don't I'm putting in for a transfer on Monday." Something like that.

And then we start driving home and he calls the kids and says "We're on our way home. Be ready to carry in groceries." And that's the only pleasure he gets out of shopping at Sam's Club - making the kids carry it all in.

The poor, poor man.