Posts Tagged ‘shopping’

In the check-out line at my local Market Basket.    My bagger today isn’t Jesus, but instead a woman.  Let’s call her Sally.

Sally (eyeing my purchase of Diego Swimmy Diapers):  How old’s your little one?

Me:  He’s two.

Sally (who looks no older than 25):  Ah.  Mine are 6, 10 and 12.

Me:   Hmm.  Goes fast, I bet.

A few beats of silence.

Sally (eyes my Johnson’s Baby Bath Oil):  You want to be really careful using this stuff with your two-year old, though.

Me (Alarmed.  Was there a recall?  Is it hazardous if swallowed?):  Oh, really!?  How come?

Sally:  It’s just not very good protection for the little ones.  They could get a really bad sunburn.

Good Lord, woman.  I’m not using it as sunblock on my baby!

Me:  Oh.  K.  Well, thanks.

Where’s Jesus when you need him?

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Gathered my wits and ventured back to Market Basket today.  I’ve previously shared my opinions on my local Market Basket, so those familiar will know that it’s kind of a big deal excursion.  You really never quite know what you’ll run into at the ole’ MB.  Let’s just say it’s…well…it’s diverse.  And crazy.   I’m talking “Cabbage Patch Dolls-circa-1980 crazy” but if Cabbage Patch Dolls cost .18 cents instead of $82 dollars.   You get me?

So, there I am.  Bobbing and weaving and ducking my cart through traffic like Super Saver through the mud at Churchill Downs.   It’s every man (or Mommy) for himself, I tell you.   And, you never know when things might take a turn for the worse, resulting in a hair-pulling fight over the last “5 for $2” package of angel hair.

And, when you go to MB, you have to really go for it.  Load ’em up.  Because you know it’ll be a while before you recover from the experience, your memory finally lapses and you decided to go back again.   Today’s haul cost nearly as much as Big Brother’s public school kindergarten tuition (don’t get me started) so you can imagine my relief as I piled my final item into my cart and headed for the check-out.

Almost made it.   I can see my car from here.   I.  can.  do.  it.    I will make it.   Maybe with just a little help from…

Him.  Yes.  Him.

Jesus.  At my service.

Well, Hallelujah.

(And, yes, I took a picture.  He had no idea.  Really.   Or, actually…now that I think about it…hmmm.)

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Sometime in the beginning of January, I bought a little bit of garlic.  A medium-sized plastic tin full of pre-peeled cloves.  Very practical, I thought to myself as I loaded them into that week’s grocery cart.   Well done.   And, for just $1.44?  A steal, no doubt.  Yay, me.  Ever the thrifty one, yup, that’s me.

Husband arrived home that night and noticed my new purchase in the refrigerator.

Wow. He calls out to me, as I sit in the adjoining room.  That’s a LOT of garlic!

Truly surprised that a) he would even notice but also that b) he thought it too much, I answered,

Well, not really.  I cook with garlic all the time!  I’m sure I’ll get right through it.  You just don’t know how much I actually need garlic.  You’ll see.

Alright. But, I can just tell in his voice that he doubts me.  That he thinks I’m being wasteful…again.

I’ll show him, I thought to myself.   I will.

So, today (two months later), when I went to make a baked ziti and reached for a little garlic powder before I remembered that…oh, yeeeeah.  I’ve got that real garlic somewhere in here and…

Sigh.  Oh, go ahead.  Mark the date and time.  I hereby admit, he was right.

Nuts.  Hate when that happens.

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Question: I need to buy a birthday gift for a five year old girl today.   And, I don’t want to spend a lot of money.

So, should I go to :

a) the boutique toy shop in the high-rent district of downtown Marblehead where no single toy is less than $25


b) Target?

And the answer is…..(drum roll)….A!

Because I need one toy.  And maybe a card.

I do not need a cart full of diapers, a six-window picture frame, juice boxes, spicy snack mix,  a few pairs of 5T blue jeans, Winnie the Pooh bath toys, scented candles, a cute new top and a six-pack of Right Guard.   And that’s exactly what I would get if I went to Target.

You hear me, girls.  I know you do.

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Grocery shopping
Rock throwing
Life’s alright…

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