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Friday, September 17, 2010

i hate grocery shopping


It is a blah day. I was awake from 1-5am last night. I don’t know why. Lots of things rolling around in my head I guess.

I am currently working up the energy to go to the grocery store.

As a non-foodie type person and mother to two small, adorable yet sometimes cantankerous children I truly TRULY detest going to the grocery store.

Here is how it goes down.

I go in. I have my list. I hustle babies into the two-seater kiddie-car cart. Strict instructions are given.

“Do NOT grab at things.”
“DO NOT put your hands out of the cart to try and touch people’s legs.” (if you ever get groped by a four year old in a store, yea, that is my kid. Sorry.)
“No we are NOT buying corn-syrup laden fruit snacks OR corn syrup laden superhero popsicles OR matchbox cars.”
“Yes I KNOW dada buys you those things EVERY TIME he takes you to the store. DO I LOOK LIKE DADA??”
“ok then. Lets go.”
“oh and DO NOT HIT YOUR SISTER. Gentle hands, gentle touches.”

And we are off.

By this point the list is wadded up in my pocket. Probably in tatters. I have a tendency to tatter things like paper napkins and grocery lists. Probably some sort of underlying adrenaline problem.

I pull out the list and try and remember to look at it occasionally as we careen down the aisles, me yelling, er, firmly reminding, about the above rules.

Oops. That aisle has the forbidden matchbox cars. We don’t really need more toilet paper anyway.


“Sorry ma’am” Sweet smile. Run quickly away.

Crash. Glass shattering. $20 worth of vanilla beans on the floor.

“Did you guys do that??” innocent looks. No one else is in the aisle.

I choose to believe them.

“Oh, must’ve been the cart bumping into it. Oops.”

I find a store employee.

“Looks like there is some broken glass in aisle five.”


Quickly run down the aisles in the last half of the store, grabbing a mix of healthy food and snacks (brown rice! almonds! raisins!) and crappy snacks (“FINE. CHOOSE SOME FRUIT SNACKS.”)

Congratulate self for remembering laundry detergent. Go down the aisle to grab whatever brand is on sale. I don’t care at this point.

SHOOT. He saw the matchbox cars.


Proceed to checkout while little man stifles cries for a new car “dada always does!” feeling like the most evil mother on the planet.

Change lines to a different checkout counter to avoid children staring at rows of candy bars.

Try to look over list while standing in new line behind woman who has forty million coupons. (I mean really. I seriously HATE coupons.)

Where is the list? Ah. In a wad in baby sisters mouth.

Pay checkout woman money without even registering that you bought way more stuff than you meant to because of course you haven’t eaten much all day.

Cart out to car. Load in kids. Load in groceries. Get home. Go to the bathroom, shutting the door for 30 seconds of privacy in which you also check Facebook (ESCAPISM).

And yes. You were out of toilet paper.

Yes, it really is like that.


Ok. Now I really really don’t want to go.


Pull self together. Put on smiley face.

Come on kids. Let’s GO! YAAAAAAAY!!

I am not making this up - I just said to little man "come on, lets go to the store!"

His response?


Fun times folks, fun times.


  1. That's funny because I SO look forward to grocery shopping! You have got to find a way to go without the's like a fun break time if you can go after they are in bed!

  2. jeanne - yes. yes. that would help. however by the time my hooligans are in bed i am usually ready for a glass of wine and some ben and jerry's. the best solution, in my mind? send daddy. HA.

    bek - love you too.


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