a) keep Ellerie safe in the cart. She can and does escape each and every time I strap her in.
b) keep Ellerie next to me while I shop. Frequently, I have rescued her from a cereal shelf, or I have left my cart in a mad run to catch her little devilish self. Both of which cause snickers and sly smiles from my fellow grocery shoppers. I hate snickers. (Not the candy, mind you. Just the expressions.)
c)actually completely shop for an entire grocery list while Ellerie is with me. Instead, I have been participating in some drive-by shopping where I just run in and grab a few things when I can.
Consequently, I have done the only thing that I could do in this situation. I have enlisted hubby's help in the grocery store chore.
This has been a blessing and a curse.
A blessing because, quite honestly, for the most part, I do not like to grocery shop. Now, if I can shop with my list, and my coupons, and a starbucks . . . with no children and with no time limit, then, hooray! I like to grocery shop. But, grocery trips like that are few and far between so, like I said, getting food is not my favorite chore to do.
So, hubby agreed to pitch in, and truthfully, I have to love him for that. After a long day at work, I am sure he doesn't want to hit the market for the sheer possibility that he may run into one of his student's or worse, one of his student's parents. No teacher or coach likes to participate in the ambush parent- teacher conference in Aisle 4 next to the peanut butter. But, the man volunteered for grocery duty knowing full well that that was one of its possibilities. He is a good man. For that, I am grateful.
I am not grateful, however, that he is a man in a grocery store.
Because a man in a grocery store does not remember what his wife needed or even asked for. A man in a grocery store does not consult his list. Ha! He laughs in the face of a list! A man in a grocery store, I say, is an empowered man. And that, my friends, is dangerous!
Recently, I asked hubby to take a grocery trip for me. "Can you get some butter and milk at the grocery store? We ran out."
Hubby didn't look up from his laptop but quickly replied, "Sure hon. I'll go in a minute."
Ten minutes later he gathered his keys and started out the door. "What was I supposed to get again?" he threw at me over his shoulder.
Knowing the dangers of the man and the grocery store, I RAN to the door and yelled after him, "BUTTER AND MILK!!!!!"
He turned, smiled and said, "Right. Butter and milk." He winked and then stated proudly, " No problem."
And then I knew that we would have a problem.
When he returned, he had spent well over $20.00. He had purchased milk, (2 gallons) lunch meat, sweet and low, and some other assorted goodies. Quickly, I scanned the bags and asked, "Hon? Where's the butter?"
"What do you mean 'Where's the butter?' " he retorted. "It's right there!"
I looked and my heart sank. It was most definitely not butter. It was margarine. And if that wasn't bad enough, it was the generic margarine. The one with the white box and non-descript blue letters that says, "Vegetable Spread". Yep. That one.
"Hon? I appreciate that you went to the store. I really do, but . . ." I hesitated.
"But what?" he asked pointedly.
I blurted it out, "But, this is not butter!"
"Yes. It is. It's what I used as a kid," he explained.
"Well, just because you used it as a kid doesn't make it butter. Butter is yummy. This stuff is ," I searched for the right word. "ummmmm . . . artificial."
He looked at me like I was crazy. Images of the movie, The Breakup, flashed through my head where the couple fights over the man's grocery trip. She wanted 12 lemons. He bought 3. She had a problem with it. He didn't understand the problem. Same here. I wanted butter. He got margarine. Vastly different in my book. Strangely the same in his. To-may-to. To-mah-to.
You get the idea.
Before he could explain himself anymore, I just decided to take one for the team. "Thanks for trying hon. I appreciate it."
He smiled, satisfied with himself. I smiled too, knowing that I would have to take back the grocery chore very soon.
Either that or I will have to learn to like margarine.