Something that I dread: grocery shopping. I don't know why it's such a nightmare to me. I guess it could have something to do with spending a lot of money on something I'll have to bag, put away, take out and cook, consume, clean up after, and then have nothing more to show for it. Unlike shopping for the house, even if it's just essentials, food has a date with destiny and is then gone forever. Oh, I love food. I love eating. But the sorry fate of food being bought must be eating at me (pun intended) while I push the cart around the store in a mildly depressed state.
Okay, I may be dramatizing this a bit...no, I don't need counseling for a quick trip to the market. I just wish I could handle taking the list and getting it done instead of having an instant wave of disgust and fear wash over me.
Having little Oliver with adds to the insanity, which can either be a good distraction from reality, or make me want to pull my hair out before we get to the frozen foods aisle. He's a pretty good helper, but would rather eat the food while packaged instead of waiting until we're home and it's prepared. Plus he usually chooses something grotesque to grab hold of and gnaw at while I wheel him around the store. Pretty sure he loves the unknowns of the grocery store...which I dislike.
He's like his daddy who, defying all logic, loves to grocery shop and actually becomes inspired, ending up buying lots of things that weren't on the list--minus a few things that were.
Andrew's our designated shopper, so I rarely even have to go, but I was just sitting here looking at our current list thinking I should be brave. The sick feeling set in. Woe is me.