Jealous much?

Dave's one of those husbands who is still totally a kid frequently, in a rockin' kind of way.  I hate to say it, but usually when he's pretending he's a six year old boy, I'm pretending I don't have any idea who he is.  Today we were leaving Costco and he was pushing the cart.  He pushed it faster and faster and then he jumped on the little ledge below the actual cart.  He drove that cart all the way down the parking lot aisle, never letting his feet touch the ground, swerving to and fro with a big goofy grin on his face.  Me?  I lagged behind, just a bit, so as not to necessarily be connected with him.  I mean, gosh, anyway I'd have to actually run if I wanted to keep up with the guy.  When I got to the car he beamed at me.


Dave:  "Jealous much?"

Me:  "No, and neither were any of the women who saw me with you." 

Uh, yeah, SNAP!


But, really, I am a pretty lucky lady to have a guy with such mad grocery cart skills.