Jason is the kind of husband who always remembers anniversaries, cracks the best jokes, and works hard every day. But there’s one thing about him that drives me absolutely crazy.
Without fail, every time we’re out grocery shopping, his phone buzzes with a so-called “very important work call” the moment we reach the checkout. It’s almost like clockwork. Honestly, if it weren’t so irritating, I’d probably admire his consistency.
“Oh, babe, I gotta take this,” he says smoothly before walking off, leaving me standing there with a cart overflowing with groceries and the bill all on me.
At first, I brushed it off. Marriage is about partnership, and we all pick up slack sometimes, right?
A frustrated woman sitting in a carSource: Midjourney
But after the tenth time, with the timing suspiciously perfect yet again, I couldn’t ignore it anymore.
“Who was that?” I asked him one day when he magically returned just as I was rolling our heavy cart back to the car.
“Oh, just work stuff,” he replied casually. Then, with a grin, added “Thanks for handling checkout. I’ll get it next time.”
Newsflash: he never did get it next time.
A woman glancing over her shoulder in a grocery storeSource: Midjourney
Last Saturday was the tipping point for me. I had reached my limit.
Our shopping list was massive. We needed to restock pretty much everything: cleaning supplies, pantry staples, snacks, and even that ridiculously expensive coffee blend Jason refuses to live without.
As we neared the checkout, I started mentally counting down. Three… two… one…
RING. RING.
Jason’s hand shot to his pocket faster than I’d ever seen before, like he was on autopilot.
“Jason…” I began, but he steamrolled right over me.
“Oh, babe, I gotta take this — it’s work.”
I watched him stroll away, acting like he was dealing with some urgent crisis, while I faced the growing mountain of groceries on the belt all by myself once again.
A cell phone in a man’s denim jean pocketSource: Gemini
The cashier, a kind older woman, gave me a knowing glance as her eyes flicked between Jason and me. It was the unmistakable “girl, I see what he’s doing” look.
My stomach twisted. Had everyone noticed this sad little routine before I did?
Embarrassment washed over me, but it quickly gave way to something stronger—frustration, especially when I saw the total on the register: $347.92.
Groceries in a shopping cartSource: Pexels
As she handed me the receipt, the cashier gave me a small, sympathetic smile.
That night, as Jason slept soundly beside me, my thoughts kept spinning. Sleep felt impossible.
With every passing hour, my irritation bubbled into determination. I lay there next to my snoring husband, already piecing together a plan in my mind.
By sunrise, I knew exactly how to put an end to Jason’s disappearing act for good.
The night before our next grocery run, I waited until Jason was sound asleep. Then, with ninja-like stealth, I grabbed his phone.
This wasn’t about checking messages or playing detective. We trust each other — well, mostly. But this mission? It was personal.
I went straight to his contacts and scrolled until I found my name.
A woman lying awakeSource: Midjourney
With just a few quick taps, I changed my contact to “Bank Fraud Department.”.
I returned the phone exactly where I found it and slid back under the covers. A grin tugged at my lips as I stared at the ceiling, feeling pretty pleased with myself.
Jason wouldn’t know what hit him, and I could hardly wait to watch it unfold.
A woman scrolling on a cell phoneSource: Pexels
The next morning, we followed our usual Saturday routine: a slow start to the day, breakfast together, then off to the grocery store with a list that seemed to get longer every week.
We moved through the aisles like clockwork, tossing essentials and a few indulgences into the cart — ice cream, his favorite chips, and some overpriced pasta he likes.
By the time we were done, the cart was packed, and we were heading straight for checkout.
“Do we really need three different kinds of chips?” I asked casually, forcing myself to stay cool even as excitement buzzed under my skin.
“Absolutely,” he replied with mock seriousness. Then he smirked. “They all serve different purposes. These are for movie night, these are for lunch sandwiches, and these are for when I get hungry at midnight.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at him, but deep down, I still found him endearing. Even with this ridiculous checkout stunt, he was still my guy.
Checkout counters in a supermarketSource: Pexels
“Whatever you say, chip expert.”
As we got closer to the checkout, I noticed Jason’s hand inching toward his pocket. The familiar move.
I quietly tapped a button on my smartwatch, ready to set my plan in motion.
RING. RING.
A woman smiling in a grocery storeSource: Midjourney
Jason’s eyes lit up as he pulled out his phone, clearly relieved to make his usual exit. He stepped away from the line without missing a beat.
“Oh, babe, one sec, I gotta—” he started to say, but stopped short when he saw the caller ID flashing: “Bank Fraud Department”.
His expression changed instantly, from smug to pale, like someone had flipped a switch.
A woman using her smartwatchSource: Pexels
“Aren’t you going to answer it?” I asked with feigned innocence. “It looks important.”
Jason’s head snapped toward me, then back to the phone, then to the queue behind us. He was clearly sweating bullets.
“Lauren, this…” he finally muttered, holding up his phone like it might explain everything.