Listen, Friends

 Men driving their wives to a craft store is almost always unendingly entertaining.  Now, some of them will just wait in the car, eventually propping their left arm under the driver's side window and drumming their fingers.

Others will leave the cars and go into the store with his wife.  These might be the cutest of all types, because they are trying to play along.  They push the shopping cart and look at fabrics and nod at the appropriate times.  They also try to figure out how to get spoken answers from their phone while looking for tree ornaments for grandchildren:  "What is the celestial sign for late June?"  (Preston was born in early June, Brandon in late, in case you were wondering.)  I left before that couple was done, but I did wish them a quiet well as I walked by.

The last type?  Going into the store with the wife, already conversing in the parking lot:

Wife: "Put that jacket on;  it's still raining."

Husband: "I was just hot in the truck;  that's why I took it off.  You're not planning on going to Target, too, are you?"

(Target and Joann share a parking lot.)

Wife: "Not if I can find my stuff in here.  I don't wanna get in all that mess."

Husband: "Good."