Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Occasionally, I bribe my husband with cookies. Like many men, Marc hates shopping of all kinds except for the hardware store. He will tolerate trips to the grocery store if I am efficient and brief, but he really can not stand shopping for clothes. Unfortunately, he went so long without buying new clothes that his work wardrobe was all old and sad, and despite a marathon shopping session in the snow over Christmas break, we had to go back to the mall yesterday in search of collar shirts and running shoes. I think it is the combination of having to spend money and having to make decisions on something he doesn't want to have to care about that cause my love to have anxiety. He called me, on his way home from school overwhelmed by himself in a department store. Men's shirts these days are mainly designed for the average American male, which means significantly shorter and wider than my tall lanky husband. He needs a shirt that says "fitted" which automatically eliminates 2/3 of the choices. I often sit on our bed looking at his closet and wonder why everything he owns is either blue or white and then we go shopping and I realize it's because everything else out there is disturbingly ugly. There are some nice greens out there, but Marc doesn't like anything he deems "bright," which not only eliminates the green shirts I would have deemed acceptable, but also some truly loud purples, pinks, oranges and teals. Dark and bright seem to be in for menswear this Spring. Thus, I drove to join him and save him from his shopping hell.
But back to the cookies. Marc tends to get anxious and frustrated while shopping which usually means he gets mad and gives up. I discovered on our last shopping trip that if I put cookies in my purse and dole them out whenever he starts getting frustrated it is enough of a distraction to keep us merrily wandering the isles. (The other trick is shopping on a weeknight like last night when the mall is uncrowded-- last time we went on a Tuesday in the middle of a snow storm).
Now I realize I am treating my husband like many people treat their four year olds, and in fact I would probably just leave a tantrumy child at home or leave the store than resort to bribing with sugar, but sometimes you have to do what is necessary to get the job done.