Nothing. NOTHING, gets me more excited than a Sunday-after-church grocer trip. During normal weeks I'll shop with just the kids. But with me living with Mother, it's just easier to make the dreaded trip right after church, when I'm already in the car. (Because I have no self-discipline during the weekend)
This is how a normal Sunday grocer trip goes:
Me: exhausted and overly ravenous = beyond witch like
Big D: anything but helpful
Kids: exhausted and overly ravenous = beyond brat like
******************************************************************
For as long as we've been married (9 years) Big D has been incredibly awful about thinking up a menu for the week AND making any sort of grocery list. If I absolutely refuse to do ANYTHING, he will make the same glorious list of:
spaghetti
fish
chedder beef enchiladas
tacos
WITH. OUT. FAIL.
DRIVES. ME. NUTS.
Ok, so on his grocer list, he'll write down spaghetti, fish, enchiladas, and tacos - AND THAT'S IT. Not what he needs to make those things. No side dishes. No refills of things we've run out of around here. Just 4 items. *Ahem* or 4 dinners.
So over the years I have demanded less and less of his help with food planning, unless I'm super desperate. Or going on strike. Both have happened. More than the sun has shined.
************************************************************************
Moving on to the usual grocer trip . . .
We walk in as a glorious family, loving and kind. Pleased to smell the fresh bread and see the pretty cupcakes. We grab the kids their free cookie - to shut them up for 3.0096 seconds. We stop and look at the poor lobsters. Ed just squeals and squeals with delight. And cries if we leave without saying "goodbye lobsters".
And then the fighting begins. Because I have the grocer list. Because I have MADE the list. Because I have planned the menu - I am the holder of the list, and the leader of the list. Big D is merely the cart pusher. And as a cart pusher I expect YOU to follow ME. But no, this is not what Big D does.
I'll say, "I'm going to get parsley". What I mean: you stay exactly where you are, or follow me - but I am going to grab a bag of parsley and then I will come straight back to you and put my parsley in the cart. And then we will move on to the next item".
What Big D hears, "I am going to play hide and seek now. Please run to the farthest part of the store and grab some random item without telling me where you are headed or what you're going to get. And we'll see how long it takes for me to find you".
INSTANT RAGE.
When I am rageful, I do not care who hears, observes, witnesses, listens, stares, records, or takes note of my behavior. Because it is all rational in the situation.
I have yelled, hollered, fought, thrown, stomped, squealed tires, and given the bird in the middle of the grocer. Literally, I turn into an animal. And it's ONLY when Big D accompanies me.
I blame him entirely for my rude behavior. Maybe in another 9 years, I will completely ban him from any sort of grocer trip with me. Sometimes it takes me a long time to make an intelligent choice/decision.
Take Aways
1) Big D needs a huge wallop on the seat of his pants.
2) Big D needs to learn some manners when it comes to doing a grocer run with the family.
3) Big D needs to read a recipe book.
Fun Fact
Whenever I send an email to a company or professional individual - I never hear back from them. Maybe they think I'm a joke. Maybe I should stop being honest and tell them what they WANT to hear, or what normal adults say. This is me having a pity-party because nobody ever gets back to me. waaaaahhhhh.
I love love love running into "swim kids" in random places (ie target) and saying "hi" to them, and they have no idea who I am. My favorite favorite part is when I say, "do I look different with clothes on?" And the parents softly gasp and then everybody giggles and says, "yes". Reactions to situations are so, so great.
No comments:
Post a Comment