Clean Up on Aisle 3

I love my wife for many, many reasons, but the one reason I fell in love with her so fast was her ability to make me laugh like a hyena at a marching band contest (not quite sure what that means, but she makes me laugh a lot). Anyway, not even having been married, I took her grocery shopping because at the time (and I think it still holds true) she loves going shopping with me. We had a lot of things on the list, and one of them was spaghetti noodles. Since she is a far better cook than I am, at least when she’s asking, I sent her to get the noodles, while I picked out soups and vegetables. I was one row over when I heard the tale tell laugh that I knew to be hers. She only does it when she is laughing at something funny and she’s embarrassed (but I didn’t know it at the time). So I walked to the end of my aisle and walked towards her aisle and there she was picking up spaghetti noodles off the floor, giggling and laughing uncontrollably. Blushing, I walked to her and said, “How...?” She couldn’t control her laughter enough to tell me, but I got the idea. Apparently, she grabbed a box of noodles that had already been opened and turned it so the opened section was facing down and it spilt all over the floor. I picked her up and said, “Grab a new box and let’s move on.” (I later told an employee that someone had spilt it and they cleaned it up.)

Fast forward to us being married for two years and a month. Friday night, the wife and I were watching a movie and wanted popcorn, and we were out, so we made an emergency dash to the grocery store. Decided that she needed to get more than just popcorn, we split up and I head for the popcorn. She didn’t tell me what she was going for, but I wasn’t worried. Five minutes later, while searching for the popcorn, I hear this giggling and laugh that I knew all to well. I walked to the end of my lane and then walk down a few more rows and what do I see? My wife standing over a pile of spilt spaghetti noodles on the floor with an open box in her hands. Blushing and chuckling, I walked to her and said, “Again...?” She couldn’t control her laughter enough to tell me, but I got the idea. Apparently, she grabbed a box of noodles, again, that had already been opened and turned it so the opened section was facing down and it spilt all over the floor. I picked her up and said, “Grab a new box and let’s move on.” (I later told an employee that someone had spilt it and they cleaned up aisle 3.)

I once heard a study that said laughing makes you live longer. As long as my wife is alive, I will live to be 130!