But because we have no money for such niceties (because we're trying to buy a house to put them in), and because B would be totally fine living with nothing but plastic egg crates and a microwave, he has put me on a strict shopping ban. I'm not even allowed to talk about IKEA. I get that though. It's like I said about that place, you only plan on picking up one lamp shade and suddenly you black out and when you come to, you're loading your car with a new bookshelf, eight wicker baskets, two lamps, and a year's supply of votive candles. I think the Swedes pump drugs through the store's air vents that make you all grab-happy and blonde.
But then on Tuesday, my hairdryer officially bit the dust. And gah knows I can't survive in this cruel world without a hair dryer. The cards are totally stacked against us thin-haired broads. So on Tuesday night I needed to make an emergency run to Bed, Bath and Beyond, which happens to be one of the stores on B's Places Bridget Is Not Allowed to Go Without Direct Supervision list. So he accompanied me to the store like a parole officer escorting a pedo past a playground.
Me: Ooh HAMPERS!
B: Don't even think about it.
Me: This lamp is-
Me: But I swear we really do need-
B: Put it down.
Me: But we're almost out of-
B: Time to go.
And obviously B made my shopping experience so stressful that I bought a hairdryer all will-nilly without first taking it out of the box and testing the buttons and I didn't find out until we got home that it's too hard to turn on because it hurts my thumbs AND WHY WOULD YOU DESIGN A HAIR DRYER WITH BUTTONS THAT ARE HARD TO TURN ON, REVLON? For reals, no matter how hard I try, I cannot turn it on. I have baby hands! But it's totally B's fault and now he will just have to deal with being called into the bathroom every morning to turn on my hairdryer for me.Tweet