I needed to get some caulking materials. YL was with me, I needed the ride and ballast. While
"I hate shopping!" had been my mantra for years. What I've come to discover is that it's a specific kind of shopping that I find extremely distasteful. I cannot, without serious and creative inducement, shop for clothes, which is the polar opposite of my daughter. I find the places that house items to cover out bodies are some of the most frustrating places on the planet. Besides, building the perfect outfit doesn't provide me with anywhere near the same spark as does getting the materials that will allow the assembly of furniture, repairs and various household makeovers. The eruption caused by the prospect of getting my hands dirty with this stuff is off the scales.
We were leaving the neighborhood hardware place with ideas swelling and visions of acres of wares at discounted prices dancing in my head. I asked YL if she would take me to Menards (a Home Depot type outlet) in the next week or so. She looked at me like I'd sprouted wings, "I don't think