Yeah, it surprised even me. To hear those words out of the wife's mouth.

We were in WalMart, in Central City. After failing to hustle eldest son out of the hospital, at least three hours after the surgeon said he was ready to be discharged, we realized his logic was correct. The room is already paid for, until midnight. Why not spend the day sleeping under the effects of narcotics, in a power bed that adjusts to any comfortable sleeping position? With television above you, and food delivered to your bedside. Eliminate the need for trips to the bathroom, and it would be some folks' idea of heaven.

So, the wife and I were completing some shopping errands, before leaving the big city.

One of the items on the wife's list was colouring books (and yes, we even found some that spelled it that way) for her office. Something to keep the attending offspring of her clients occupied while the adults talk.

Mind you, her employer does not spring for this great idea. This comes out of our pocket, but it so greatly simplifies some of her appointments, that it's worth it.

She's looking for some sort of generic colouring book, but there didn't seem to be any such thing. All the themed books you could want. DareDevil, and Scooby Doo, Barbi and yes, SpongeBob. But no ordinary colouring books. Until I spotted one hidden in the back of the bottom rack.

Dinosaurs!

Just the perfect thing.

She didn't think so. Then I pointed out that the illustrations were modern, up-to-date.

They're not even tail-draggers!

"Okay," she relented. And continued looking.

Why? I ask.

"Now I need something for the girls," my wife replied.

Like I said, it surprised even me. Stunned me for a second or two. To hear such sexist words from a woman I thought I knew.

And then I waved the dinosaur book in her face again.

Here you go! Dinosaurs! And they're not even tail-draggers.