Sunday, December 6, 2009

All I ask is that you carry

Today I had to go grocery shopping. For some people, this is a lot of fun. People who enjoy this are the people who usually enjoy eating a wide variety of foods, including but certainly not limited to, fruits and vegetables. I'm not one of these people.

Don't get me wrong, I love to eat. My favorite foods are spaghetti, almost anything from Wendy's, and an item or two from pretty much every fast food restaurant I've ever been to. I get the same thing at the same places because I don't like trying new things because at the end of the day I know I probably won't like it.

I'm a picky eater.

So every two weeks, payday, it is my sole job to figure out what my family is going to eat every single day. Multiple meals. Which really sucks because I hate 99% of what I cook because it involves healthy choices, things that will make Olivia poop, and things that Matt will want to take for lunch the next day. I like cooking, I just don't like to eat what I cook. If I could afford to eat out everyday and not worry about my organs shutting down from fat build up then I totally would.

Today I planned our non-exciting menu for the next two weeks which is mostly made up of what I refer to as "ghetto meals" because they are easy and cheap. I planned the menu based on what we have, what coupons I had, what's on sale, etc. I clipped the coupons. I made the very detailed list (in order by department obviously), and I set off on my journey. But before I left, I asked Matt to be handy to help me carry stuff in. I hate carrying stuff in.

I get to the grocery store and the fact I had to park on the road was a clear indicator that church was obviously out and that said churchgoers were in full force at the store. Goodie. I get the last available cart that wasn't a motorized chair and lucky me, only one wheel actually works. This wasn't a big deal to begin with but after my loop around the outer perimeter of the store it was blindingly clear that this was now going to be an Army style workout. In the meat department as soon as I picked up a package of chicken breasts with a price so high I almost died knowing for a few dollars more I could probably buy an entire chicken, I turned around to see a guy puke on the floor.

Now, I don't know if you know this about me (you would if you paid attention to previous posts) but I don't *do* puke. Anything fluid like coming out of a body, I don't do. That applies to everything.

So I high tailed it out of the meat department, but before I could the smell of raw meat and puke wafted towards me. I basically gagged my way through the dairy section. I am appalled to find that the only kind of premade cookie dough (in the tubes) is sugar. WHAT.THE.FUCK.?! I need peanut butter, ginger, and chocolate chip to start my cooking baking extravaganza. DAMN YOU.

In my rage I finished getting everything else on my list and debating the merits of making my own cookie dough when WHAM! Some old lady, on a cell phone no less, rams her super full cart into my leg. I almost went down, folks. But thank god the wheels on my cart didn't move, because by it standing still I was able to remain standing. And the topper? She tells me to watch where I'm going. If she wasn't so old I would have just laid into her.

BUT, I make it to the checkout and see the lines. I almost lost hope and then there she was- a cashier with nobody waiting. So I run (as fast as I can push the wheeless cart) into her line. I immediately figure out why there is nobody there. She's new. She's confused and looks scared. Fuck. My leg hurts so I decide to chance it. How hard can it be? It's not like I've got food stamps or something. So she's ringing everything really slowly. I had over my coupons and she starts almost hypervenitlating. She tells me I can't use more than $20 in coupons. Oh honey- today is not the day to try this shit. A manager obviously saw my face and comes over, instructs the cashier there is no coupon limit. I get my total, $121.78 and almost die knowing I haven't spent more than $100 in a two week grocery trip in YEARS. I panic. No lie.

So I start bagging and as soon as I lift my barely full bag of canned goods- the bag gives out on me- cans everywhere. Bastards. So I end up having to double bag everything because our local grocery store thinks a way to cut overhead is by providing useless bags that can't hold 8 cans.

After bagging I make my way out to the van only to realize that a cart with non-functioning wheels doesn't push so well on pavement. Lots of noise and skidding, I almost get run over by a guy who said he couldn't see or hear me coming. Really? The noise of metal on pavement is too quiet for you?

When loading my goods into the van, I almost get hit by a lady backing out of her parking space. Her vehicle is doing the "you are close to hitting someone" beeping that mine does, yet she doesn't stop. I kid you not- that lady only stopped when I banged on her back window, then she gives ME the finger. Right.

After driving home, I pull up to see the house looks mighty quiet. I start carrying two bags in, and fucking Matt has locked the doors. Oh.No.He.Didn't.

I dropped my bags on the porch, unlocked the door and hear the unmistable sound of Matt snoring. Must be nice. Asshole.

6 comments:

Sara said...

Wow. I so feel for you! That sounds like a shopping trip from H.E.L.L. I like everything I cook, but my family doesn't. Go figure. There has to be a happy medium. From scratch cookies are better for you anyway...

Whatcha cooking this week, anyway?

Mom Taxi Julie said...

I hate shopping too. And I get really pissed when people don't jump up to help carry the crap in. I WILL hit you over the head "accidentally" on my way in!

Alexandra said...

Oh, honey!
I was half laughing, half feeling sorry for you.
I know what it feels like, we've all been there.
Hell is a supermarket full of retired people.

Organic Meatbag said...

And THAT is why I hate the grocery... fuck all that noise...

Anonymous said...

This is funny shit we should get together and i could tell u a day in my life with 7 kids, 2 cats, 2 birds and 2 dogs...oh oh oh wait i forgot a kid David he may b 30 years old but he sure is a kid. I sometimes wonder y when i ask for help picking up the house the kids step over 8 things to get to me and then say "Ma/Sam, what do u want me to do?" "Or the oh so famous "what can i help u with love" (DAVID) Are you fricken kidding me turn around and pick up all the shit you stepped over to get ot me to ask me that and put it away!!! AND to think i really wondered one day y most the kids dont see what they need to help with! A big thank you to David for the great cleaning skills he has installed in some of the kids! Not to mention that why i ask my 3 yr old to help he looks at me taps his finger on his head or chin and then quickly says "let me think about that (short pause) NO" very rarly does he say yes!!! AH, the life of mothers!
~~~Sam LePage

Lindsey Lea said...

Saw your blog on 20SB. LOVE it! That sounds about like what happens to me when I go it alone at the grocery store (which, for the record, doesn't happen often anymore b/c I'm close to a complete meltdown by the time I get home). I feel for ya!

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