I may have run out of tricks to make my husband offer to do the grocery shopping alone, or, even better, with our son Tucker. Him offering to stop on the way home, or after an outing without me doesn’t happen often, but when it does, I feel a sense of accomplishment. Like any good wife, I try and time my husband’s solo trips to the grocers with necessity that makes sense in his world. Him, already out and about, and out of yogurt. Him, on his way home and Tucker needing fruit for his lunch box. He’ll almost always remember to get my wine, which, honestly, is the only reason for me to go to that particular store at all.
Looking back, it’s hard to say whether I’ve always despised going to the grocery store as much as I do now. It’s also hard to say why, exactly, I don’t like going, considering that many of my favorite things are purchased there. That a store exists where I can nab both Doritos and wine should be one that I adore. And yet, I do not.
My aversion to the grocery store is probably my mom’s fault. After all, she was the inconsiderate lesson-teacher who sent my no-longer-triumphant-seven-year-old-self back into King Soopers to find the manager and tell him what I’d done the day that a forbidden pack of Juicy Fruit gum fell out of my underpants because I had no pockets. It was probably her fault that I didn’t have pockets and even more her fault that I had to steal Juicy Fruit gum, because it wasn’t sugarless. She obviously didn’t realize that the fact that the word Fruit was in the name meant that it was a meal supplement. Healthy, even.
The grocery is also the place where my son has embarrassed me more than once. There’s one time though, that sticks in mind when I hated the grocery store and my son embarrassed me there.
I was standing in the chip aisle, contemplating the Baked ones versus the actually Delicious ones (which are never baked, for the record).
While standing in front of the chip aisle, contemplating the nasty Baked ones because hello too many rolls above my waistband is when I turned around to find Tucker with his hand in his pants.
“Tucker! Get your hand out of your pants!” I said.
Now remember, often times, he can be a little hard to understand, but because there were people around and because it was about privates, he exclaimed, perfectly clearly “Mom! I’m fixing my penis!” He was angry so of course it sounded more like “Maaaahaaam! I’m Fix.ING. My. Penis!!!” I could hear people chuckling in the aisle over.
I hate the grocery store.
This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post, where writers and bloggers gather to support one another in finishing the same sentence, completely or loosely. This week’s sentence is”It started in the line at the grocery store…” Your hosts:
Me (Kristi from Finding Ninee)
and this week’s co-hosts are Dawn M Skorczewski, this week’s sentence thinker-upper, and, for linking to Dawn, please reference her FB profile page here, so that people are able to read her ending to the sentence prompt, and Nicki Gilbert (Redboots).