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On Saturday's we go to visit folks at 2 different nursing homes. This is rather stressful, so on the way home, I always insist on stopping at an amazing 11 acre nursery to soak up the peace. Of course, I can't just soak up the plant therapy without buying anything, so this time I wanted to buy a honeysuckle to plant by the catio.
My sweetie, who is even more stressed by the visits because one of our visits include his father (who doesn't usually know who we are) lost it and started yelling at me about how planting a vine like that next to the house would pull all of the walls down.
I was shocked, he doesn't ever care about what I do to our yard and started bickering back at him.
Unbeknownst to us, a stocker had trapped himself at the end of the aisle with a load of paving stones and was forced to listen to us bicker. When I noticed him, he looked like he was trying to figure a way to climb over the shelves to escape being drawn into the drama.
That's when I dropped the rope and asked my sweetie to stop and think about how stupid it was that we were arguing about the danger of plants overrunning houses and pulling them down in this state instead of the state he grew up in.
He dropped his end of the rope, then said that now he understood that I was using retail therapy and wondered if he could do the same at the gun store. I told him that buying a gun a week was unreasonable, but one every 6 months wasn't and that we could stop every week to soak up the gun porn until he could buy.
Sweetie asked me if we needed a trellis and turned around to see the poor stocker honestly rolling around on the ground laughing so hard he was crying.
My sweetie, who is even more stressed by the visits because one of our visits include his father (who doesn't usually know who we are) lost it and started yelling at me about how planting a vine like that next to the house would pull all of the walls down.
I was shocked, he doesn't ever care about what I do to our yard and started bickering back at him.
Unbeknownst to us, a stocker had trapped himself at the end of the aisle with a load of paving stones and was forced to listen to us bicker. When I noticed him, he looked like he was trying to figure a way to climb over the shelves to escape being drawn into the drama.
That's when I dropped the rope and asked my sweetie to stop and think about how stupid it was that we were arguing about the danger of plants overrunning houses and pulling them down in this state instead of the state he grew up in.
He dropped his end of the rope, then said that now he understood that I was using retail therapy and wondered if he could do the same at the gun store. I told him that buying a gun a week was unreasonable, but one every 6 months wasn't and that we could stop every week to soak up the gun porn until he could buy.
Sweetie asked me if we needed a trellis and turned around to see the poor stocker honestly rolling around on the ground laughing so hard he was crying.
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