Saturday, January 16, 2016


I don't have a clever title for this post, so...

It's really a beautiful gesture when someone offers to join me in my weekly grocery shopping.  I use the term "weekly" lightly, because we all know it turns into something that looks a little more like "thrice weekly".

Grocery lists be forgotten on the counter like...

Today, my daughter decided to join me.  My baby girl of nearly 18 :')  Anyway, I can't talk about that.  If I don't talk about it, I don't have to acknowledge it, right?  Moving on.

You may recall that I only use the little cart, on account of how I get dizzy about halfway through my excursion?  And, if I try to use the big cart, I risk knocking entire end cap displays over?  Okay, great.  You're up to speed.  So picture me strolling up and down each aisle, beautiful child trailing behind with little cart, watching in awe at all that is "mom carefully stacking tons of things into little cart to the point where it has lost the capacity to steer".  She asked me no less than 4x if we needed the big cart.

"NO!", said I!

Finally, about 6 aisles into the madness, she changed her language.

"Should I get another little cart?"

Comparing the remainder of my lengthy list to the rapidly declining condition of the little cart she was attempting to maneuver, I quickly surrendered.

"Sure.  If you really think we need it..."

As I waited for my daughter to jog to the front of the store to obtain a new little cart, I studied the next item on my list.  Eggs.  I began to question myself.  Can I get away with *not* eggs?  I mean, I like eggs.  I have them every morning with my gluten free, orange marmalade slathered toast and medium roast black coffee.  But I don't have a good history in actually purchasing eggs.  Or bringing them store to fridge, at least.

I drop them.  Or I drop them.  Sometimes, I even drop them.  One time?  I had a "temper temper" moment in my driveway, which resulted in clenching my fist into a powerful ball of hate and hauling off with a mighty jab, right into a grocery bag I was holding.  Inside?  Eggs.  Who punches eggs in the face?  No one, that's who.  Guys, I don't remember what caused me to flip out, but whatever it was?  Sure made a mess.


Anyway, back to the store experience.  Along came my beautiful, sensible, mild mannered, would-never-punch-an-egg-in-the-face child with the second cart.  She began to distribute the heavy load from one to the other as I went toward the eggs.  I approached them as if I was on a tactical team.  Thinking it through, carefully peeking under the flimsy lid to verify the integrity of the 18 pack.  Everything seemed in order.  I gently lifted it from the stack with both hands, so as not to risk an untimely hand tremor, and lowered them onto the topmost area of what was now my little cart.

I know what you're thinking.  What about checkout?

Flawless, thanks ;)

Our bagger was so courteous as to say, "I put the eggs and bread on top".

"Fantastic, thanks!", I excitedly exclaimed!  But I actually wasn't paying much attention, because I was trying to work the tiny computerized version of hell that is the credit/debit card reader.

Can someone design a universal one of those?  Preferably one with less questions.

As my daughter and I were walking out, we were laughing and joking about all sorts of fun things.  We were carefree.  Joyful.  Dare I say jovial.  We were also pressed for time, since she was due to begin her shift in short order.  So I said, "let's throw these groceries in the car and get you home!"

You already see it, don't you...

We victoriously scaled over the bumpy, raised plastic ramp (that reminds me a little too much of rumble strips and I question the reasoning behind them) without losing a bag.  I opened the liftgate of my car, picked up the first bag I came across and humorously called out, "weeeeeeeeeeee!" as I lofted it into the hatch.  I realized it was the eggs as it landed upside down with a :::crack:::

OMG.  Are you kidding me?  I didn't just...

You guys, I laughed so. hard. that my legs gave out.  There I was, the entire top of my body laying in the hatch of my car, screaming in laughter, with my daughter yelling, "REALLY???  REALLY!!!  THE EGGS!  YOU THREW THE EGGS???"

Pretty sure I'll be shopping alone, or with my son, from here on...