One of the absolute worst fucking things in life is grocery shopping.
I hate everything about it. I hate the aisle-wandering, the cart-pushing, the retard-avoiding, the shelf-searching, the conveyorbelt-loading, the cashier-waiting, the bag-loading, the PAYING, the bag-lifting, the trunk-packing, the pile-as-many-bags-on-my-arms-and-struggle-into-the-house-ing, and of course... the cupboard-stuffing.
The unpacking is the worst because I have to look at everything I just spent all my money on, only to come to the painful conclusion that not. one. thing. is appealing to eat. Except the chips.
Usually, Hubby and I stop over at the local grocer on a daily basis before dinner. It's the same routine every night. (You can read about Men and their meat here.)
But once in a while we head over to Wal-fart for the big'un. The giant "let's get every little thing we might ever need if the world ever ends - and every other little thing we can think of while we're at it" shopping trip.
Making the whole thing worse? Hubby's starting a new job in which packing a lunch will become a necessary evil. So this particular shopping trip was spent with me reminding him once or twice in each aisle that he needs to buy things he can eat during the day. Snacks, drinks, treats, meals.
And of course each one of his decisions is a huge deal.
Me: "You like pitas, Honey."
Me: "Well how about some pitas then?"
Hubby: "Well, they always get stale really fast."
Me: "True. Ok, wraps instead."
Hubby: *squeezes the pita bag*
Me: "Ok, well make a decision."
Hubby: *stands pondering*
Me: *walks away*
So we continue to make it through this giant disgusting supercentre (which basically represents everything that is wrong with the world), piling at least one of everything in sight into our cart.
Hubby: "I need some decent bathroom cleaner."
Me: "So get some."
Hubby: *stands and stares at the wall of cleaning products*
Me: "Yeah, that Greenworks one is decent. Less cancer."
So when we get home, what do I unpack? The Scrub-Free bathroom cleaner. The carcinogen. With BLEACH.
Hubby: "That's the one you said!"
Me: "Noooo, I was referring to the green one. Less cancer, remember? This is the most cancer possible in one gigantic jug. Cancer in a jug is what this is."
Hubby waves me away me while he tries to jam about 10% more almonds into the almond jar than could ever logically fit, spilling them all over our counter.
And then he plops down next to me on the couch eating - what else but chips - and crunches on them like a camel with lock-jaw.
And then he paces the kitchen opening the fridge and asking me what I'm having for dinner.
Yep. Grocery shopping is an asshole.
Now. If you can guess how much I spent on this particular shopping trip, you'll win something. I don't know what, but at the very least it will be bragging rights, as well as the pleasure of knowing that you have never EVER spent this much on groceries.
PS - Now he's making me a cucumber snack, so I guess he's not all bad.