So there we were, strolling through the Mart. C was right behind me with our bounty. Two plungers, a toaster oven and an oversized golf umbrella. And what to my wondering eyes….an end cap loaded with a captivating display of Moscato. I grabbed a bottle and stared longingly at the label as I turned to place it in the cart. I said, “This right here, honey bunny, is gooood stuff!” As I set it in the cart I noticed it was mysteriously empty. I slowly glanced up to the man pushing it. The man before me was not my husband. Nor was he my “honey bunny”.  (Apparently C had made a turn down a side aisle to pick out some peanut butter.) Startled, I said, “Ooopsy! Ohhh dear!” I gave a nervous giggle and a ginormous grin erupted across this man’s face. I don’t know what bear he’d been fightin’, but it took his teeth. Literally.  This toothless wonder then says, “Ohhhh, yaaaa! You bet!” I began to scurry, with my Moscato. He turned his cart around. I saw him pivot.  He was in pursuit…of the good stuff. I ran to the real honey bunny who has this (curse) knack for pontificating endlessly over even the simplest decisions, like peanut butter. I hid behind my big, Alaskan, over thinking, peanut butter loving husband. My suitor caught a glimpse of Sunny Jim and was gone. Apparently C thought it was funny. I just took the opportunity to justify another bottle and ran back to that end cap in a Jif.