Back to my point. Why did I refuse to go to the grocery store today? There are lots of reasons. The first of which being that it is pay day for military folks, and we shop at the commissary. Which means EVERYONE will be there. And by EVERYONE, I mean EVERYONE. But by EVERYONE, I mostly mean the people who are over 80. I know, I'm being an ass here, but a lot of those really old people, they. w---a---l----k v---e---r---y s---l---o---w---l---y. Not as slowly as my Art teacher in 7th Grade talked (that's a story for another day), but close enough.
I am sure some day I am going to be one of those really old people (God willing!) who walks v---e---r---y s---l---o---w---l---y through the aisles of the grocery store, but for now, I'm still young (and cruel, mean and evil) enough to despise the fact that they are taking 30 minutes to go 15 feet. It wouldn't be such a big deal if I liked grocery shopping. If I didn't mind staring at that pile of tomatoes until my eyes popped out... But I don't like grocery shopping. It's a lot of work. A. LOT. of work. There is a LOT of preparation that goes into grocery shopping. Are you ready for this?
First, I have to make a menu for the week. Duh, so that I know what to BUY!! Because Not the Momma is trying to lose weight -- like always -- so that he'll measure in for the military PRT thingy-ma-bob, I'm trying to make sure that we're getting healthy eats. He'd be happy eating lettuce with light dressing and tuna every meal for a month. I, on the other hand, need a bit of variety. So, I have to dig through cookbooks and find 'healthy' things that taste good, or find not-so-healthy things and think of ways to modify them to be healthier.
When I've finished deciding what we're going to have, I write the 'menu' down on a 3x5 card, specifying which days we're 'supposed' to eat what. (Oh, and I also make sure to write down the page number and cookbook that I found the recipe in)
Then, there is the most dreaded, most grossest job of all. Above chocolate, raisin and olive diapers. (Have you ever changed a child's diaper after they ate an unhealthy amount of olives and raisins, washed down by chocolate milk? It's not pretty) Cleaning out the fridge. Yeaaauuuuck. I often keep a shovel or an axe handy to smack the things that crawl out of the tupperware in order to try to eat the dogs. Cleaning out the fridge is then followed by loading the tupperwares into the dishwasher. Simple enough, except that the dishwasher usually needs to be emptied, because I'm lazy.
Then, I start the REAL grocery list. Not the list I made when I was picking out the recipes, but the real grocery list. The list is made up of all of the things on my 'recipe' list, plus the 'other' necessary stuff like goldfish crackers, diet soda, cheerios, diet soda, milk, cheerios, diet soda, frozen waffles, diet soda, cheerios and lunch stuff. Did I mention Cheerios and diet soda? On top of those things, there's the random stuff that Not the Momma was certain that we needed at some point in the week, even if he didn't write it down. Oh yeah, and that list? It has to be in the order that I will find the stuff in the store -- well, at least grouped appropriately... so that I'm less likely to get through the entire store and have to go back for that one stupid lemon. That, and because I hate getting stuck in front of the Oreos while trying to find that item, THAT ONE that needs to be crossed off. Because it means three bags of double stuffs get shoved into the cart. Little Monster's fault. I swear!
When we get to the store, we get the spaceship cart, so Little Monster can steer. He's less likely to put random things into the cart if he's distracted with the two steering wheels. He eats his baggie of cheerios while we're walking around the store. You know, eating like any 18 month old eats-- Grab 30 cheerios, put 3 in mouth, spill the other 27 onto the floor. My dogs love it, the other people at the grocery store, not so much. While we meander around, leaving a warped Hansel and Gretel trail of cheerios, people glare and look at me strange because I insist upon explaining everything to Little Monster... Except that one Mom. The one who looks like I feel and like I look, all bedraggled, arguing with her kids over WHY they don't need the 3 gallon jar of pickles. I watch people send her the same glares they send me. So I strike up a conversation, my way of letting her know that she's not alone, and that my kid acts that way too, that I too, hate grocery shopping, that I too, feel judged as I walk through the grocery store.
After an hour of shopping, we get to stand in THE LINE. The line that is nonexistent while I'm shopping, but somehow appears the second I am ready to leave. The line that wraps around the entire exterior of the store. The line that drags me by no less than 10 stands with no less than 15 kinds of cookies and snacks and yummy bad-for-me goodness. After we finally get to the checkout, I pray that the milk hasn't spoiled, I realize that I have no cash to tip the work-for-tips-only-baggers.
There's still the issue of unloading the groceries, putting them away, and getting Little Monster to eat something besides cheese and cheerios for lunch. That's a lot to deal with. So, I choose not to deal with it on the first and the fifteenth, when there will be 50 people there who can't walk faster than 10 feet per minute. I know, I'm cruel, I'm evil. But, I guess we'll all starve again tomorrow. Because I'm not going grocery shopping on Friday either. And I'm certainly not going over the weekend. We're going to starve this weekend.
4 comments:
Ha! You made me laugh out loud!!!
I so write out my list in the order of the store I am going to and get very irritated when my hubby, who thinks he is helping, adds something to the middle. of. the. page. Especially when he uses a different color of pen. I usually have to re-write it all. I know.
Oh and I love the description of the cheerio-eating. That is so Rach. She can get her ENTIRE fist in her mouth along with the food in her hand....and still manages to drop most of it on the floor. Go figure.
Ahhh. The commisary. It's odd, since I grew up living on base, the commissary where we did 99% of our grocery shopping. IT was a true treat wen we got to go to the IGA, (or Safeway... or insert local grocery store here) In fact, when I go to college, I was very confused as to the idea that the people don't automatically take your groceries outside for you and put them in your car. And that the person who puts your groceries in the bag is actually employed by the store. It took some adjusting.
As a side note, if little monster should be REALLY feening for some cheerios, you could always try your local grocery store. :) I think they carry those. Have a good weekend.
Ah! A soul sister! I do the menu/grocery list planning too! :0) And I was completely nodding my head in agreement with your explanation of your trips to the grocery store. Though, mine is minus the rocket cart because my store doesn't have those. Which is why I have ten boxes of fruit snacks in my closet right now. MY little monster likes to help shop too. Sigh.
Hope you survive the weekend!
Wow, how do you write about my life with such accuracy? ;-) Actually, I gave up the menu planning when we had our second child, I just scribble down three or four meals and work the ingrediaents into my ordered list. But we have shopped at so many commissaries in the last 6 years that I find myself forgetting the order of our current one. Hitting our closest Harris Teeter for a few staples is an imdulgence I cherish now.
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