I was working on another post for today, but the questions raised by Creative Liar in her post “The Cart Ruiner” provided far too much fodder for just the “comments” (or, as she likes to call it, the “Lie to Me” section). Thank you, Creative Liar, for inspiring me today!
Creative Liar asked folks to weigh in on a few questions, such as, “Oh and what’s your trip to the grocery store like?”
Previously, I blogged about one particular grocery store trip. This piece describes a fairly typical outing to the grocery store. Unfortunately, it did not feature my husband or my daughter (though they were there in spirit!)
Fang and Fangette often enjoy going to the grocery store with me. They are usually the ones adding the pretentious items to my cart full of Wonder Bread and Chef-Boy-R-Dee Ravioli. Things like “Tom’s of Maine” toothpaste. Pshaw. If cinnamon Close-Up was good enough for me, it should be good enough for them! (Perhaps the cinnamon Close-Up is the reason I need the soft foods like the Wonder Bread and the Ravioli in the first place— this line of reasoning cannot be dismissed out of hand!)
They also like to purchase organic snacks and breakfast items. Unfortunately, they prefer to eat the less than wholesome selections made by me. So, guess who’s left holding the organic breakfast bar (at $4.99/box) and the Fourth of July (does anyone know how to get that TM sign????) mini peanut butter cracker snacks? I always think I am coming home to a Little Debbie’s Peanut Butter bar or awakening to a mouth-watering Entenmann’s cheese danish, only to discover that, somehow, they are no longer in the house. So, I’m stuck with the organic crap. The boxes they come in probably contain more flavor (not to mention the fiber content of cardboard!).
I try to avoid trips down the hair care aisle, especially when my daughter is in tow. She has champagne tastes does Fangette; Mrs. Fang has a beer pocketbook. She often manages to catch me off guard, though, and I don’t realize that I have invested $19 in something called “hair tonic” until it’s too late. Even back in my drinking days I didn’t spend $19 on gin to mix with actual tonic. At least I was a frugal drunk.
We always seem to come home with various and sundry other things that most people buy at places like Target, Bed, Bath, and Beyond, Home Depot, or, even, Victoria’s Secret. We are the people that treat the grocery store like it’s BJ’s or Costco. We have purchased Keurig’s, air conditioners, hair straighteners, toaster ovens, jeggings (okay, that was me, but I needed them and, well, they were there), socks, window exhaust fans, lawn chairs, and, of course, ladies’ panties (Again, me. But, again, they were there and I needed them.) at the supermarket. (Isn’t that why they call it a “supermarket”? Because they have everything?)
Creative Liar also asks: “Does your husband have a tendency to wear clothes? If so, do you think he could host an intervention for my husband?”
Sorry, dear. My husband could benefit from an intervention himself.
Fang’s typical “weekend wear” can best be described as mid-20th Century immigrant, replete with the white socks and black sandals (which, I swear, he buys at the grocery store when I am not looking), long shorts (for ease of ball scratching or, as he calls it, “rearranging”), and a t-shirt. He completes this look with one of the many afghans that are hanging around the house (most of which have been painstakingly crocheted by yours truly). Because he’s cold. Of course it’s cold in my house. All of our expendable income is going toward organic breakfast bars, deluxe toothpaste, and fancy hair products.
photo credit: inkity.com