I am a bit of a magpie (well, I don’t steal and I can’t fly) but I love anything that sparkles, or has beads on it or shines. So a perfect shopping trip for me would be a big old fashioned market where there are jewellery stalls, and handbags, and trinkets and candles. You get the picture. Hubby isn’t a fan of these trips at all. He shuffles his feet and sighs a lot, and looks longingly in the direction of the pub.

But take him to a food market and he’s in his element. That man just loves food and will eat anything (I’m not kidding). He loves looking at food, buying food, cooking food and most of all eating it. He is a foodie through and through.

His family originate in Eastern Europe so he is very fond off Hungarian, Polish and German food. A branch of Lidl has opened recently close to where we live so on Saturday I suggested we go and have a mooch around to see what they had on offer. We know how to live us eh? Can you bear the excitement??

So off we went and we were no sooner through the doors than a huge smile lit up his fizog and he was OFF! Practically skipping down the isle, picking things up and oohing an arghing. All sorts of delicacies were thrown into the trolley with gay abandon, (gay being used here in it’s original context, happy excited etc) I don’t want anyone, least of all hubby thinking I am implying that he bats for the other team. Ye gods!!

So pots of Hungarian goulash were chosen, German sausage, smoked cheeses, olives, nuts, and paprika flavoured crips. You name it in it went, with his smile getting bigger by the minute. At one point he became mesmerised with a small tin of something, so I took a closer look. Octopus in its own ink. Er No, I said. “Why not” he said, “you don’t have to eat it” “I know” I said,” and I don’t really want you to eat it either”. “Why not” he said, “I won’t eat it in front of you”. “Honey” I pleaded, I’d really rather you didn’t eat it at all, the thought of it was making me feel quite sick. Octopus in its own ink is only a step away from Poodle in its own pooh if you ask me. He relented thankfully and went off and had a good look at the beer section.

We took our booty to the till. That will be £29 please, said the cashier. “Blimey” Shrieked Hubby, “How did we spend £30 on snacks?” looking at me accusingly. “We didn’t”, I said. “This is the only thing I put in the trolley”, I held up a small pack of bread sticks priced at 49p.

Humph he grunted, furiously gazing at the rest of the items hoping to find something else he hadn’t chosen. He couldn’t, because it was all his. I just smiled and helped him pack it all into bags.

I do hope he remembers this little incident the next time I buy a few “bits & pieces” at the rag market. He won’t of course. But not to worry. I shall have lots of fun reminding him…………………….