“I’m Kinda Like A Cinnamon Bun”

A few days ago, Colin and I went to the grocery store together. I have a serious love/hate relationship with grocery shopping with him, because he can be very indecisive about food.

Me: “Hun, do you want me to make that balsamic pasta with steak that you like?”

Colin: “Hmmm…..no…that’s ok, we have lots of stuff in the freezer.”

Me: “Alrighty. Should we get some fruit?”

Colin: “Nah, can’t think of anything I really want.”

And then a few days later, I discover that we don’t actually have any ingredients that would create a meal, and that the only moderately healthy snack in the house are stalks of broccoli.

So maybe indecisive isn’t the right word. He just gets bored in the grocery store and wants to get out as quickly as possible. Give that man a list and he is a wonder at getting it all in the cart in under five minutes. I like to leisurely wander the aisles, tossing items in like I’m Cameron Diaz in The Holiday. I like to drink wine in the checkout line too. If only they would let me!

So the other day I convinced Colin to come to the store with me. We were leisurely strolling the bread section when I saw the most delicious looking cinnamon buns ever.

Ok, that’s a lie. They only looked really good because I haven;t eaten a cinnamon bun in three months. But damnit, I wanted them. So I said to Colin:

“Ooooo Colin look! Cinnamon buns! Let’s get them! Do you want them!”

(Look at how good and compromise-y and relationship-y I am!)

Colin responded with this:


Commence staring at the cinnamon buns for approximately three hours.

“My dear darling, love of my life, yes or no? Because my thighs are starting speak up, and they doth protest. But the rest of me still approves, and would like you to make a decision quickly.”

Or something like that.

Colin just stared, clearly thinking quite intently at the cinnamon buns. By this time, my thighs had won out and were walking me to the fruit and veg. But not for long! When we headed to the checkout counter, we began to approach the cinnamon bun display again, and both got very excited.

Yes indeed, my friends. I was going to take those cinnamon buns home with me whether Colin wanted them or not. Hell, I would eat the half dozen myself. I need not share to make this relationship work, right? But Colin seemed to have rethought his previous…thinking…and was also going for the cinnamon buns. Joy!


Someone had already beat me to the cinnamon buns. In the fifteen minutes of browsing, bagging and sorting I had done in the fruit and veg, someone had swiped my rolls of morning deliciousness.

Was I sad? No my friends. I did not despair. I turned it into a teaching moment for Colin.

Me: “Hey hun?”

Colin: “Yeah?”

Me: “I think I’m kinda like a cinnamon bun.”

Colin: “(Please insert a raised eyebrow here)”

Me: “Well, I’m kinda like the cinnamon bun. Just sitting here, waiting for you to make a decision, you know. But maybe you take too long, making the decision, maybe you walk around a while thinking about it, and then WHAM! Someone else comes and picks up this here cinnamon bun. And then you’re sad and without your beloved cinnamon bun. How does that make you feel?”

Colin: “Uh-huh. I see what you did there.”

Me: “I have no idea what you are talking about.”


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