Today in a fit of sympathy for my wife, I went to the pharmacy for her... on the way out the door, she also said she needed some "feminine protection".
"A pink flamethrower?" I asked before she batted me in the head. I am a man that is secure enough with himself to buy pads for his woman, but not secure enough not to give her a hard time about it after all...
So I get in the car and head to the drugstore, completely unprepared for the decision that awaits me. In the "feminine hygiene" aisle, there are at least thirty seven new categories and options for these things than I remember seeing the last time a woman asked me to buy them for her. I stand there and stare for a bit... I think about it logically, trying to estimate my lady's potential for heavy to moderate flow... and then just get the cheapest ones they had.
If I'm wrong I figure she'll never have me buy them for her again... A win-win for team Cerio.
I grabbed myself a pint of my favorite ice cream to celebrate my cleverness in the face of female domination, and then went to pick up Silverfoxes prescription for her. The girl behind the counter was really sweet... if a little perky, but she said the following after seeing my purchases:
"Oh, you're so sweet to get her migraine medication, pads, and the ice cream. You know, I had the worst craving for this ice cream before my first child was born... but on the bright side, you know that she's not pregnant."
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