Am I the only woman on the planet who detests grocery shopping? I put off this loathsome duty in the worst way when it comes time to stock back up. I mean, I am pulling out the powdered milk to drink while giving the kids crackers and ketchup for lunch before I finally will break and go do the dreaded deed. I don't know why in the world I hate it so much. I used to actually like it, but boy, those days are gone.
Perhaps it has something to do with how rude people will park their buggy right in the middle of an aisle as they leisurely peruse the canned peas for 10 solid minutes while blatently ignoring the fact that you are standing there, stuck, until they finally decide to move a few inches to the pasta, just to begin the scene all over again.
Or, hey, how about the associates who obviously hate every single person alive? May the Lord help you if you need something because He is your only hope in finding it, since they cannot be bothered with helping such a plebian as a customer.
But you want to know what my favorite part of the shopping experience is? It is the torture chamber otherwise referred to as the checkout line. You know the place, it's the one where you get hemmed up on all four sides with all of your children who are whining and fighting unmercifully.
It's the place where you are surrounded by candy and instant artery clogging beef jerky and easily breakable toys and chapstick while unable to move, for 30 miserable minutes as your ice cream (the only redeeming quality of the whole trip) creates a sticky puddle on the floor.
It's the place where, at the end of your time there, you are presented with one of said snooty associates telling you that you owe them some exorbitant amount of money as you realize that you didn't even get all that you really needed. No, I take that back. The best part of all is the hard cold fact that you will, indeed, be back here doing the whole thing over again next week.
Do I just have some terrible intolerance issue? Because I am feeling a bit like Bette Midler did in the Stepford Wives. I really do love to cook and take care of my family and Lord knows I love to eat, but girls, this part just reeks to me...and I didn't even mention the issue of running into the 50 million people that I know and feel obligated to chat with or hauling the whole lot into the house only to spend an hour putting it away....Ok, I will stop.
Talk to me here.