Yes, we have no bananas

Sometimes I forget that boys and girls are different.  I mean, obviously, we're different, but you know...I tend to believe that we think the same.

Then I go grocery shopping and remember.

For me, the aisles of the grocery store are treasure troves.  New curry powder, cherry diet coke, almonds sold in bulk.  So many discoveries to be made, so many delicacies to be tasted.  I gleefully weave my cart through the store over the linoleum tile.  I hum along with the soft-rock playlist. My mind imagines creations to be concocted as my cart fills up with brightly colored vegetables, exotic spices, freshly baked bread,  and whatever else it may be that catches my eye during the course of my market exploration.

Last night I went grocery shopping with an individual from the other side of the species.  We spent 8 minutes in the cereal aisle, only to walk away with oatmeal (the usual).  We also bought cheese and milk.  

"I'm  glad I'm not boy."

"I'm  glad I'm  not a girl."