Believe it or not, I really enjoy grocery shopping with my wife. We have recently discovered a new upscale store not too far from our neighborhood. Since both of us love to make fun of observe people, this store has been a great find, not to mention the lower prices and better selection. She shops fast, so it doesn't drag on and on. She is always moving through the store at top speed, only choosing items on the list, occasionally throwing in a little surprise or an experiment for dinner later in the week.
The pic above pretty much depicts the melancholy streak in her personality, although the cashier was so efficient, my wife didn't have time to face all the labels the same direction. But make no mistake they are now all displayed correctly in the pantry/refrigerator/freezer in our freshly Swiffered kitchen. That is actually my fault because I had a sudden intermittent moment of perfectionism when we got home. The labels, not the Swiffering. It's over now. Whew!
So you might think because I'm a Phlegmatic, I'm poking fun at this trait of my bride. Not so, Buckwheat. I have learned to cherish and appreciate this aspect of our relationship. Our whole house is always clean and organized (except for my spaces: office and west side of the garage). We can entertain guests at the drop of a hat. Plus, I always know where the spare toilet paper is and we never go hungry.
In contrast, let's check out this next pic. This is my Brother's Christmas Tree. He pulls this out of a box every December 1st at 9am, sets it on the floor, and plugs it in. Just like this. He doesn't even straighten out the limbs. As long as it lights up and spins around, he's happy. Then on December 26th at 2pm, he stuffs it back in the box and throws it in the closet for another year. Done.
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