OK, that story wasn't entirely true.
I'd come home after work, to check on my bank accounts (had certain checks been deposited, that sort of thing), and then left to get what we'd need for dinner. Der B hasn't been feeling too well, so I figured I'd just pop into the store and pop back home again.
Nope. He decided to follow me, in case I bought too much to carry. Oh, and he wanted to get some dried ears of corn, for the squirrels. Priorities, always priorities.
So, we get to the car, I put the groceries on the back seat and take the cart to the corral, and come back to the car... and there he is, sitting in the passenger seat, with a slightly satisfied look on his face.
After twenty-four years of his being the driver, he's taking a fancy to my squiring him around.
(But WalMart was out of the dried ears of corn. Poor squirrels.)