What a big mistake. We needed "a few things." Ever heard that before? Off we went to our local Winco store. Somehow, they knew which cart I used last time, and it was available again. Maybe you've used it before. It's the cart that veers to the right without warning.
The Mrs. grabs a bag of Tortilla chips. They go with everything. We get some little smokies (Great in Mac & Cheese). Then it's off to the produce section. Bananas. Yummy. I notice garlic cloves on sale, and mention it the Mrs., who makes a beeline to stock up on garlic. She is, after all, Italian.
We're stuck in the produce section for a while. Every shopper is there now. Gridlock on the aisles. There are no traffic rules in grocery stores. Wrong way driving is encouraged. My pet peeve: parents who let their six-year olds push the shopping cart. Into me. Oops.
Then there's the shopper who puts their cart smack in the middle of the aisle, so no one can get around. Aaah the things we think but do not say. . .
The Mrs. and I split up to cover more ground. I head for the bread, she heads for the "Feminine products". Ok you caught me. I wasn't trying to be more efficient. I just wanted to get the heck away from being the helpful feminine product consultant.
On the way back from the bread, the OREO display calls out to me. Those Oreos have a terrific magnetic hold on me.
I'm the 1982 Dodge K-car with 200,000 miles. The Oreos are like the electro-magnet at the junkyard, I feel the Oreos pull me involuntarily closer. . I can't fight the pull. At the last second, I'm distracted by the Mrs. cruising back from THAT OTHER section. The Oreo electro-magnet is powerless again. (Phew, close call. . )
We're ready for the checkout line. Woo Hoo! The Mrs. didn't bring her purse! I get to pay!
"I pay, you bag!!!!, I say to the Mrs. I HATE bagging groceries. Although I'm twice as good at grocery bagging than the Mrs. could ever hope to become. (Of course, when she reads this, a "conversation" will be initiated regarding the merits of the content of my blog. It doesn't write itself, I'll tell her! Content is king! Blogs are about free form thought, I'll argue! And I need content right now- quantity, not quality, I'll tell her! I'll tell her. Ahem. Of course, she won't respond to my argument. She'll just say something like, "yes dear, just remember to pay the phone bill before you go offline.")
But I digress.
We get home, unload the groceries, with the help of the dog. Actually, he can't handle grocery bags very well. But I'll give him a soup or a soda can to carry into the house. He loves helping out. Hasn't ruined a can yet!
Since we did our grocery shopping after work, we got home later than usual. Too late to cook anything extensively complicated. But wait! The Mrs, while putting things away in the refrigerator, says, "you didn't eat your leftovers from Wink's yet." Leftover Wink's meatloaf! Comfort food! Microwaveable! I'm all in. I know I know. It sounds gross. Well, after giving it the active sonar treatment, it did look a little gross. But it tasted pretty good.
As I ate my meatloaf, my eyes spotted a Sports Illustrated from several weeks ago that I hadn't finished. So I read an article that puffed up USC as "all that" in college football because they just put the HURT on Nebraska. Funny, huh! Eating leftover, ugly-looking meatloaf while reading an ugly, leftover story about those losers USC and Nebraska.
Dinner's over. A quick evening of grocery shopping, leftover eating, and blogging. BOY, why didn't I buy those OREOS!!!!!