I took a slight detour by way of the cosmetics aisle. Miss Roo and I were sorely short of some vital equipment for our beauty routines (cotton balls), and I figured I'd kill two birds with one stone.
As Wonderhubby and I rolled the cart down the aisle, he stopped at the razors.
"I can't believe the refills for the Mach 3 are $18 for three," he groused. "Three will last me forever."
(Please note: the man has a full beard and only needs razors for trimming around the facial edges.)
"There are disposable Mach 3s here," I pointed out helpfully.
"If I were going to buy disposables, I'd buy these," he said, picking up the cheapy Bic disposables. (He is nothing but consistent in his
I rolled my eyes and poked around the razors.
"I need some for me, and I like the curvy kind," I said, picking up some pink ones in a more feminine package.
"Well, then, let's just get the ones you like," said Wonderhubby, taking them out of my hand and throwing them in the cart.
"Uh ... sure. You want the purple one instead?"
"Pfffft. I don't care what color it is," he laughed.
That's my guy. Willing to shave with a pink razor.
And, as I have long known, totally comfortable in his masculinity.