- Last year, I was trailing behind Steve — now my husband — in a grocery store when he grabbed a jar of store-brand peanut butter from a shelf. I plucked it out of our cart and examined the label.
“Since when do you buy generic?” I demanded.
Steve jumped away from me, his eyes wide with fear and surprise. It was an expression unlike anything I’d seen cross my husband’s face before — because, I belatedly realized, this man was not my husband.
I dropped the peanut butter jar and sprinted off — leaving this poor stranger utterly perplexed.