Egging Each Other On

Inspirational song: Anything You Can Do (Annie, Get Your Gun)

The season has begun in earnest. The Mr texted me while he was out, asking what I planned to accompish today. I had a couple of long projects, but that was it. I don't remember how the conversation went sideways, but within a few messages back and forth, we had conspired to meet at the Ace Hardware close to home, to select a "few" plants to go in the garden. I grabbed a stack of rewards coupons, and wandered into the danger zone.

I assumed that the point was to get a few starter plants for the vegetable garden plus select a few perennials to put in the new berm to go with the irises and cherry tree. Funny, once he and I started wandering around the bedding plants, the totals went up. We picked out a few small tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, and a basil. He pointed out that we didn't have a red columbine yet (although I think we might have one back on the pet grave, that I didn't think about until now). I wanted snapdragons, which XS's mom back in Croatia apparently refers to as bunnies (and I was treated to a gesture, facial expression, and nonsense word to explain how they remind her of a squishy bunny face). We decided we didn't have enough white flowers, so he grabbed a candytuft, but then he put it back and selected something else I can't now remember. I insisted on weed and feed, which he really didn't want. He chose a bunch of vegetable seeds, which I believe will never sprout. And then we split up to use more of the $5 off coupons than we normally could, and to divide the financial impact of the first big plant purchase of the season. We compared notes when we got out to the parking lot. I paid more, and the difference was exactly the cost of the weed and feed. I'm not sure whether to feel insulted, or to be impressed that he won that tiny little passive agressive combat so precisely. I'm leaning towards being impressed. I'm not even mad.

I was surprised when we got home to learn that he never intended to put the new flowers into the as-yet-to-be-built berm. He said that the ground was way too saturated for him to do the digging and moving of turf, and if we waited until the conditions were right to plant the new stuff, it would die waiting for us to act. "I know us," he said. I had no argument. About half of the plants are in the ground already. There's a big stack of annuals waiting for me to put them in containers this week. The pressure is high. He got all of his done quickly. Me, I look at mine as yet another item on The List.