Sunday, March 18, 2012

Grocery Store

Pushed the shopping cart alongside Mrs. W for twenty minutes. "Well," she said, "I think that's it, then." She took the cart. I walked on ahead. Farther and farther ahead. I stopped at the head of the checkout tier. Leaned against product boxes. Looked at time. Looked at other shoppers. Looked down the aisle for the Missus.

Twenty-two minutes. After she had pronounced it finished.

(Further irrelevancy: There were seven items on the list. There were twenty-seven items in the cart. "So?" she said. Will I ever learn? I have a real ID ten tee problem.)

6 comments:

Grace said...

My husband pushes the cart and unloads the groceries, I do the bagging. And as I do that I'm always exclaiming "How did that get in the cart" and my husbands replies "It must have jumped when I wasn't looking" ::sigh::

vanilla said...

Grace, I fear the only solution here is the one The Missus suggests, which is for me to stay away from the grocery store while she shops. ;-)

Vee said...

The solution is to go out for every meal.

vanilla said...

Vee, oh, yes. Thanks for that.

Lin said...

You're doing it wrong.

Joe does the shopping in our house. He loves it because then he can buy all the bad stuff that he loves. I'm not kidding--sometimes we have 7 different types of crackers or 8 kinds of mustard. And ice cream. Always ice cream.

You can be the hero AND get what you want. :) Watch and learn from Joe, Grasshopper.

vanilla said...

Lin, better yet, she goes to the store, I stay home.