Marc @ Costco

I know I said I was going to post about following God, but I had to slip this in first. I introduced Marc to Costco today. It was an experience. I've been to Costco often with friends, but Marc had never been. He had made an appointment with an optometrist at the Costco in Candiac that he met through work. While there we decided to get a membership for Costco, the North American super-duper stuff-mart of my dear husband's dreams.

From the customer support desk, armed w/a newly minted card and the curiosity of a small child, my husband wandered into the world of mega shopping, while I, his tour guide, followed. The first thing he wanted to see was the food. The good food. I took him to the cheese section. He was in his glory. A huge chunk of old cheddar and a brie wheel the size of a Frisbee was placed carefully into our station wagon of a shopping cart. A side of smoked meat that will last us a month, a package of 6 different kinds of sausages, two buckets of cream cheese, and a garbage bag of kettle fried chips were added. Marc poked and prodded and oohed and awed. We eventually wandered away from the food, and while checking out propane tanks and bar-b-ques we turned into the automotive aisle. I am sure I saw a tear of joy roll down Marc's cheek. Then we hit the tools and he was gleefully poring through the tool chests of his dreams. I think I even heard him giggle.

Marc often passes past Candiac on his way to and from work. Because of this, he was able to show relative restraint as we wheeled the cart up and down the well stocked aisles. In fact, he has another appointment at the optometrist's on Saturday. Not only was he excited about returning, but he wanted to bring Grace, certain that she of all people would truly share his joy. I think he's right.

Marc has big dreams, now. Dreams of never paying $10 for a tiny chunk of old cheddar at the IGA again. Dreams of cell phone calls from home, with instructions to stop at "The Store" to pick up much needed items at low, low prices. Dreams of twice the peanut butter for half the price, never having to wear "holey" socks again, of row after row of mile high shelves loaded with all the tools, motor oil, bar-b-que supplies, and granola bars a person will ever need.

I have to admit, I love it. It was fun to watch Marc having fun. My husband is a sweet and wonderful man. With a Costco card.

Eeep.