I dislike, no, I loathe the grocery store. With a passion.
And not just because taking a four year old and a nine month old to any store for a lengthy amount of time is just plain crazy. I’ve hated the grocery store for years. So I rarely go. Thank God for my husband because he loves it, and enables my avoidance.
(I do have one grocery store exception: the post-kid-bedtime quick run for some Oreos or anything chocolate. These are sometimes necessary at the end of a long, long day and only involve a straight bee-line to the appropriate aisle and then to self-check. So worth it!)
This weekend, though, we
made the mistake decided to head to the grocery store all together to pick up our weekly meal ingredients (by the way, this saves us a ton of money – and time – and additional trips to said grocery store). What the heck were we thinking?!?
It started out low key. My husband had his list and a plan. I had a headache and two kids to keep track of. I pushed the cart (with the nine month old strapped in) and attempted to corral our busy (read: crazy manic) four year old as he dashed from item to item. Hubby wandered near by picking out the items we needed, checking prices, comparing quality, etc.
The lighting and muzak did not help the headache. Neither did the nine month old who decide he was hungry, nor the four year old who wanted to pick out his food and put it in the cart without asking. I attempted to help hubby by getting the easier items (such as yogurt or milk that involved little or no comparison). And here was where I made a mistake.
Apparently there is a system for putting items in the cart. I was unaware of this until my lovely husband decided to
lecture explain this to me. Something about certain foods going next to each other to help with bagging, blah, blah, blah. I would tell you about it, but really, I just tuned him out and nodded when necessary.
We continued on. I decided to mostly just focus on the kids, and Hubby picked up the pace as our four year old spun the chapstick kiosk-thingy sending lip balm across the floor. (Guess who got to help pick that up?)
I was distracting the kids with the boxes of cereal when my husband called out from the meat section. He was so excited, so I headed over. He held up some hunk of beef and started talking about sale and cut, and how it would be perfect for the meal I was cooking this week (heads up: slow cooker french dip sandwiches – Yum!). I had no idea what cut I needed anyway, so I smiled with joy and told him how great it was that he f0und it. (He needs a little positive reinforcement every now and then).
Eventually, we made it to produce. This area confuses me. I have no idea how to tell if a fruit or veggie is ripe or not. (Unless it’s bananas. That’s easy.) Hubby has tried to help me in the past, but now he doesn’t bother and just picks the rest out on his own. Me and the kids watched the “storm” watering system and tried to stay out of his way.
Finally, 45 minutes into the trip, we made it to the check-out line. My four year old went straight for the candy and started pulling bars out. We (as in me) decided we’d had enough, so I took the kids out to the car.
My contributions (not on the list) to our purchases were Tater Tots, Jiffy Muffin Mix, Bananas, Granola Bars, and ADVIL. (None placed into the correct part of the cart, I might add.)
I could make a meal out of that, right?