Me: "I'm going to take this inside, unload it, and bring it back out so we can load up the other stuff."
Him: "What other stuff?"
Me: "The stuff that's in the trunk."
Me: "I'll be right back."
Me: "So we can unload the rest of the stuff."
I take the containers inside, unload them, and go right back outside. He is struggling up the drive with a couple of boxed items.
Him: "I think I dropped a box."
He sees that I am carrying the plastic bins.
Him: "What are you doing with those?"
Me: "I'm going to fill them back up."
Him: "I dropped a box."
He takes his armload into the house. I see the box with the milk cartons on the ground. The box is split open, but nothing is spilling out. I go ahead and fill up the plastic bin with the other purchases. He comes back outside. This is both surprising and pleasing, as he normally would have forgotten that we're in the middle of doing something.
Him: "Is that all?"
Me: "Yes, except for the box you dropped." (I say it this way, thinking he will immediately know where to look.)
Him: "What box? I didn't drop anything." (He is not being defensive. He really doesn't remember dropping it, even though it just happened, and he just told me about it.)
Me: "It's okay. Nothing is spilling. It's right over there."
He starts to lift the box with one hand. I remind him that it's broken and needs to be picked up with both hands so the cartons don't slip out. He is insulted that I would think he needs to be reminded of this. Sigh.