The grocery shopping scenario rarely varies. It takes us three minutes just to get past the entryway of the store because I do a wheel check on the numerous handicap carts to find one that doesn’t squeak, wobble, or veer off to the left when I let go of the handle. Then, my husband, Andy, insists we sterilize the handle with one of those free wipes on display by the doors. Ok, I think we’re ready to go.
I am the official “keeper of the list”. I pluck the list out of my purse and snap it open like a soldier reading orders for his next assignment. Andy, Mr. No-Nonsense, likes to get things done as quickly as possible. “I’ll tackle dairy items. Tell me what you need from that section”, he urges. It takes a second to find them on my list because it’s not like I had everything in neat categories already. Sheesh…
Five minutes later, my cell phone rings. “Where are you?” I can hear that he is out of breath and detect a slight irritation in his voice (understatement here). “I’m only one aisle away from where you left me”, I retort. I can hear a sigh in his voice, “I’ve been all over the store looking for you and I’m juggling fifteen things in my arms.”
How did my husband manage to lose my general location in just three minutes?! Did he think I purposely ducked behind displays playing Hide and Seek to entertain myself in his absence? Plus, he was given FIVE dairy items off the list to pick up. You would think he’d have grabbed a cart if he was planning to grab ten extra items to haul around. Being the sweet-mannered wife I am, I quietly answered, “I’m on aisle number two next to the bread and tortillas.”
My husband often spouts off like a furious whale trapped in a tropical cyclone. But, he brings himself back to calm waters pretty quickly. He finds me (not that I was lost…) and we stroll down the pasta aisle together. “Doesn’t Fettuccine Alfredo with steamed broccoli sound good for dinner tonight?”, I ask. He agrees that the idea sounds amazing until I ask him to go back to the produce section for the broccoli. “Seriously?!”, he growls. This is Andy’s famous “one-liner” word laced with a thousand abstract meanings. You have the option of choosing the real meaning behind that word – if you dare.
Off he traipses with one more glance backward at me. I guess he is trying to memorize my location this time in case I try to ditch him again.
Fun side note: I own almost all of The Pioneer Woman‘s cookbooks and love her recipes! I thought I would share her Fettuccine Alfredo recipe. I like to add steamed broccoli at the end! Enjoy!
The Pioneer Woman: Fettuccine Alfredo Recipe
We make the final lap in the grocery store. This leads past the toiletries and pharmacy sections before the finish line of cashiers. I know it’s coming… Andy veers off toward the pharmacy where our daughter, Sara, just happens to work. He spies her behind the pharmacy drop-off window. I roll my eyes and stop the cart.
Here’s the thing. Andy doesn’t just march up, give a friendly wave to our lovely daughter, and move on. It’s a theatrical production for him. He hides behind the vitamins and ACE bandages and peaks around the displays at her. Thank goodness the pharmacy staff know who he is now because, at first, they probably thought he was a serial killer scoping out his next victim from the unsuspecting pharmacy technicians. Sara notices him and gives him a patronizing smile and wave. We are back on track toward cashiers.
We have one last obstacle to face. We call it the “Choosing of the Line”. I always let him pick the line because I have a knack for choosing the wrong one. I will see a short line and move right in only to observe that the person ahead of me is clutching a wad of coupons or I overhear them asking the cashier to check on a sale price that they swore was in this week’s store ad. So, Andy gets to pick a line.
Andy’s agenda is different than mine. He scouts for his favorite cashiers. Ones that are patient with his corny jokes such as, “If this goes over $100, my wife will be staying to help stock shelves tonight” (If he ever has to plan my funeral, he will probably say this same exact line.). Today, however, he spies a cashier who is a fan of his favorite football team’s rival. They banter and smack talk like old buddies while I proceed to bag the groceries because I don’t see a courtesy clerk around for miles. I’m bagging as fast as I can because Andy has the loudest voice ever and everyone is now privy to their sports conversation.
We’re done! Bags are in the cart and out the door we go! The last words spoken are by me, “Do you remember where we parked the car?”