Okay, we don't eat bacon at my house, but we do work to pay our bills. And even though my husband makes more money than I do, he doesn't technically bring the food home. He hates grocery shopping—don't we all—so I'm the volunteer to go out and actually hunt for—and gather—food for our meals. Seriously, even with a list and a familiarity with the organization of Winco, I still have to do a lot of hunting. Why did they decide to move the Goldfish crackers from one side of the cookie and cracker aisle to the other? It's a sick game played by the stock boys I'm sure. Sorry, stock people. Well, I don't really know the politically correct term.
So anyway. Since I work full time now, I don't have the luxury of shopping in the morning hours before going to work. Today happened to be the day I scheduled grocery shopping (okay, I didn't schedule it I put it off instead of going on Sunday). I figured I could get off work, go to Winco, get in, and get out and still be home in time to start dinner before Luke made it through the door. Why I thought this, I do not know (and by the way, Luke often makes meals or we make them together—I just usually put the burden on myself).
After standing in line at the post office for 20 minutes, I finally left for the store. I got there, got out my list, and went through the store in my mostly orderly manner, but it was of course by this time much later than I had planned on being there so every other person in town was just off work too and trying to do it all as I was.
They need traffic signals there. I wasn't frustrated and impatient, however. I was polite—no you first—in my cart maneuvering. Then I found myself making car noises while parallel parking a shopping cart. Yeah, I stopped myself before anyone noticed. I think.
Surviving the shopping experience, I headed home only to hit every single red light. When I walked through my door and saw my husband already home, relaxing in his chair, I went into a fit of hysterical laughter, sweat running down my body.
—Of course you are already home, I said. So much for getting dinner started. Now all I want to do is order pizza, but there is NO WAY I'm going to do that because I've just bought enough food to feed our nonexistent family of ten. And I had a list! But I deviated from it a bit.
—You were hungry, he said.
—Yes, but I was buying food for you! I bought beef jerky, and honey roasted peanuts (and other random snack food to pack in his lunches).
Luke started laughing at my erratic explanations of the previous two hours. Then he hugged me, helped me bring in all the groceries and put them away, and he started dinner. Then he was very patient with me as I sat down to start blogging before I forgot everything.
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