Diet Coke Man

           I was just living a regular, suburban life, unaware that my husband had, yet again, become famous.

          But this time it’s not for hosting game shows. This time I was in Home Goods drooling over their darling Christmas décor. I asked a clerk to watch a gingerbread house while I went to get my husband’s attention. “He’s up there, buying cases of Diet Coke,” I explained. Apparently this home accessory store sells them cheaper than the supermarkets.

          “Oh!” the girl brightened. “I’ve heard of him, but I’ve never met him.”

          Seriously. St. Bob is now a folk hero, like Davy Crockett, or Johnny Appleseed. Stories of his extravagant bulk purchases have filtered through the entire staff, who no doubt text each other, “He’s here!” when he starts emptying their fridge into his shopping cart.

          And now I feel obligated to introduce her to him, and hope a line doesn’t form. What if people think it’s the check-out line, and then discover that it isn’t? What if they ask Bob to autograph items they haven’t purchased yet?

          I can see the manager beaming from 20 yards away, the same way women do wherever we go. The Diet Coke Man.  Well, at least he isn’t the Hamburglar.

    Hey, here’s something you can do while you’re waiting in line—watch my short Youtube Mom videos!  All kinds of life hacks, just waiting in line for you!