Lady With the Pink Fuzzy Floppy Hat

If you ever espy a latitudinally and longitudinally challenged older yet shopping savvy woman, (wedded to yours truly for almost twenty six years), who stands approximately four feet and ten inches a strong hunch that gal stacks up as mine missus, she dons costumed headwear to avoid station identification, whenever she steps out into the public limelight anywhere outside these four walls of our one bedroom apartment here within bucolic Schwenksville, the town that town forgot, and the decades could not improve, where all the women good looking, the men strong, and the children wise to the ways of technology. When this logophile quite a few pounds lighter ever since I first became acquainted with unnamed aforementioned woman, she adopted predilection to don apparel allowing, enabling, and providing modus operandi to present herself incognito. Ofttimes said spouse of mine upon returning from grocery shopping spree (ever price conscious of various and sundry commestibles - with a knick knack paddy whack give this doggone husband a plant based NON GMO bone), she can rattle off the prices of targeted items on her mental rolodex how much food cost at: ALDI, GIANT, LIDL, WEGMANS... While scurrying to and fro hither and yon, a stranger might unexpectedly pay a compliment to iterated getup, which bobbin noggin makes her easy to identify, when yours truly tags along, (but despite being considerably taller by almost twelve inches), these spindleshanks of one sentient, ship shaped, shanghaied, salubrious, slithering, snakish, stuttering, sluggish, smashface scarred, sober, solitary, sangfroid skidamarink singing, Shamokin speaking scrivener, scuzzy, spunky, starved, submissively suicidal, sunburned, senseless salaried shuffling senescent snoutish soundcloud shutterflying snapchatting schnorrer find impossible mission to keep pace with the wife.