I’m suppose to be planning a menu for the week and writing up a grocery list. Instead, I’m goofing off, surfing the web, and writing this blog post because I’m so easily distracted.
Thinking about grocery shopping is enough to fill me with dread. Actually, any kind of shopping fills me with dread because I usually have kids in tow.
Over a decade ago, I remember trips to the grocery store were rather uneventful… taking my time going up and down the isle, comparing brands, lost in my own thoughts, lingering over the ice cream section….
Now, I’d rather have a root canal than go to the store with 3 kids. If they’re not whining about one touching the other, they’re tag-teaming me with an endless barrage of requests for some over-processed junk they saw on TV and want me to buy it. Either that, or they’re fighting over who is gets to kill the battery on my phone. God forbid one of them has to use the restroom.
Is it just me or do you wonder why, after you’ve loaded your purchases on the conveyor and you’re checking out, the clerk looks at you and asks, “Did you find everything okay?” Seriously? Do you think that’s the time to ask?
Like, if I forgot to pickup a box of laundry detergent or a carton of eggs, is someone going to go fetch it for me? Because, inevitably, by the time I’ve wrangled all 3 kids to the register, it dawns on me that I’ve forgotten SOMETHING (usually the main thing I went to buy in the first place).
Well, I guess I should get back to making this list. I hear the kids’ school bus, and they’re going to want something other than frozen peas for dinner. Maybe I’ll use my cleavage and ask my husband to go, and I can just stay home with the kids…