If there’s one thing I like more than anything in the world it’s being better than other people.
Usually this is easy to achieve because I look great in yoga pants and I part my hair on the right plus I was in the church hand bell choir for two consecutive years during middle school. So…yeah. But sometimes my pain staking dedication to perfection is ruined by that man I often find confused and half naked in my bed. My husband.
The man refuses to take my need to passively belittle other grocery store patrons seriously!
To prove my point, let’s take a look at an average grocery store outing for me or as I refer to it, “Supermarket Sweep Boot Camp.” Because we all go to the grocery store just in case we’re ever faced with that magical moment of deciding whether or not to make the Super Sandwich. That and to feed our families.
Now I’m a cart perfectionist. I’m the type of person that likes my cart to say “I’m an over indulgent douche” when I go to the grocery store and so I achieve this in two very specific ways:
- I load up my cart with as much crap as possible.
- I make sure that 99.9754637% of that crap has the word “organic” written on it.
This does not amuse my fellow patrons. In fact, it turns out that most people don’t like it when you try to prove that you’re better than them which only means you must try harder. Hence the reason why I wear at least five leather purses when I shop and say things like “How am I ever going to fit all of this in my Maserati?” on a three minute loop. All of this works perfectly until the moment my confused, half naked husband texts me to buy the kind of bread that has preservatives in it because we all know how delicious preservatives are (and I’m not sure if he’s still half naked by the time I go to the grocery store, but I am sure he’d like us to picture him that way and I’m not one to refuse his wishes).
So I do it. I sneak the damn bread beneath my masterfully organic stash and stroll down the walk of shame knowing that once I unload all my artfully crafted organic goods onto the conveyer belt, everyone will know that I’m a fraud.
But it’s okay because I love my husband and if he wants white, chemically enhanced, deliciously dextrose bread then by David Ruprecht, I’ll buy it for him.
But if I win the Bonus Sweep, he’ll have to buy his own bread. And hopefully put on some clothes.
Does your husband have a tendency to wear clothes? If so, do you think he could host an intervention for my husband? Oh and what’s your trip to the grocery store like?
What? You buy stuff that has words written on it? For shame. Raw ingredients only at our house. Just kidding. I ate fun sized butterfingers for dinner. And then I hate some leftover chinese food for second dinner.
And your family is pretty adorable; I’d let him get away with the shameful white bread too.
I love that you get the concept of second dinner. I tried to explain this to my husband once and he looked at me as if I had just said, “Lets run around naked in a BMW car lot and see if anyone notices.” Of course I had said that but like two minutes earlier.
I know. They’re too cute for their own good!
The Big Fella, and our son who is skinny but has an equally big appetite, mean my supermarket trolley is like pushing Mount Rushmore (insert mountain of choice here) every week. I start off in the veg section and gradually bury it all under processed and refined crap by the time I reach the till. I’m not sure anyone would be envious of my trolley or me in yoga pants. In fact I’m sure of it. My daughter is 25, she’s still cute and giggles a lot but I don’t think she’ll fit in the trolley anymore. The big fella is usually clothed, because I insist on it, it frightens the wild life round here if he isn’t.
She can still fit. I do it all the time. Of course there five grocery stores I’m not allowed to shop in anymore but I like to think it was worth it.
You’re right, I need to stop being such a conformist.
I try to shop covertly without my family. It saves me the trouble of trying to hide the Capn Crunch they put in the cart under the avocados. Oh – and my husband still hasn’t mastered the concept of zippers, so sorry, no help there.
Well, I kind of feel for him. Zippers usually trip me up, too. And buttons. And math. And really anything that has to do with being an adult.
I always hit the soda section first since my husband is addicted to Diet Mountain Dew. Then I load all the organic produce on top of it. Then I mutter to the cashier that I have a 24 pk underneath, like I’m making a crack deal. Yeah, my brood kind of ruins my perfect shopper look as well.
Thanks for the inspiration! http://javaj240.wordpress.com/2012/11/05/whats-your-trip-to-the-grocery-store-like/
Haha you’re very welcome!
My boyfriend (not husband yet) spends too much time wearing clothes. Like, seven layers. I’m truly surprised that he gets undressed to shower. He’s always wearing socks, even when I try to take them from him and burn them because they look like a rotting corps is eating his feet. He wears a white v-neck under everything, including clothes that do not need white anythings under them. Plus a t-shirt, Plus a hoodie, even in the middle of summer. He refuses to walk around the house barefoot. And he won’t take off anything unless he is in a closed room with no windows. As you can imagine, this takes a toll on intimacy. Maybe your husband can stage an intervention with my boyfriend!
Bwahaha! I have an overdressed husband. The man has a second skin that is a hoodie.
Haha yes! We’ll just let them work out their clothing issues while we go buy organic food at the grocery store and give people smug looks. I’ve already cleared my Saturday for this.
Excellent
Sometimes I shower and dress to go to the grocery store. My daughter noticed this and was all “Why do you get all dressed up to go to the store?” Dressed up = not wearing pajamas. Umm… because I don’t go anywhere else?
The grocery store was my fancy outing whenever I was staying at home. The surprised “Oh, wow you like nice,” was always the best coming from my husband on those days, right before I punched him in the teeth, of course.
Occasionally I go to the grocery. Without a cute blonde kid OR a husband, that’s dressed or not. CL, you already one-up me the moment you walk into a store. So if no one else, I’m in a grocery store somewhere feeling the burn of your over perfection and my non-perfection in comparison. Just thought you should know. Oh, and cute family. Good job!
Oh thank you! If there’s one thing I like even more than being better than other people, it’s being reminded of it!
And thank you. Sometimes they’re too cute for their own good like yesterday when they broke out in a choreographed tap dance to a song they wrote called “We Love Mommy.” Brown nosers…
I make him go and then deride him for buying the wrong stuff.
I’ve been doing that lately, too. I have my look of “sadly disappointed” down to a T!
“Oh, meant Pink Lady apples. No, that’s okay.”
How do I get into the book club?
Haha love it! And just sign up for a Goodreads account if you don’t have one and then go to this link: http://www.goodreads.com/group/show/83179-tipsy-lit-book-club
From there, there should be a button that says something like “Join group.” Voila! And just be sure you sign into goodreads and join our discussion in the group on Dec. 7th to discuss the book!
My grocery trips are preferably child/husband free, which allows me to wander aimlessly and take as long as I want – like a mini-vacation. When my husband comes, he keeps me on track and helps me remember everything on my list, which is no fun.
He can’t help with your half naked husband problem, as he himself prefers to just wear a pair of baggy cotton workout shorts. ONLY the shorts. I feel like I’m constantly watching for exposed balls when he lounges on the bed.
What is it about husbands having hawk like memories? Maybe I didn’t want to find my keys, Matthew! Maybe I wanted to keep them in the vegetable crisper where they belong! I wish you luck on your exposed ball patrol. It ain’t easy work but somebody’s got to do it.
This was great! I often feel better about myself when I shop at Whole Foods, just even for one thing. I leave a little higher up than those around me who just went to the regular store. And I spent double, so I’m even cooler. It means I care more. Even though I can’t afford it. hahahahaha!
You know, maybe we should just stop shopping at whole foods and just use their bags. That way we can get our sugar/sodium fill and still feel like smug asshats. Sometimes I’m so smart I scare myself.
*packing whole foods bags into trunk*
My partner and I go grocery shopping together (after he’s wearing pants, I might add) and we usually end up screaming at each other. I scream THAT’S TOO EXPENSIVE! and he screams I DON’T LIKE WEARING PANTS! And then we buy the expensive, organic bread and I withhold sex.
The end.
If this comment was a full length novel I would have read it cover to cover.
I actually think my comment might turn into a whole post…
Do it!
Sadly, all too often the grocery store is date night for my wife and me. As such, we’re ones wearing formal attire and lighting candles in the aisle where the canned oysters are.
That was you?? Next time forgo the scented candles. I was sneezing all the way to the deli counter.
My bad. I should have known that lighting “Purple Kumquat Passion” so close to the Cheerios would be too strong.
Half Naked? Amateur.
I know. I sometimes just want to be like “MAKE UP YOUR FREAKING MIND ALREADY!”
No husband unless you count God, and he’s kind of hard to clothe…
I hate supermarkets. I worked in one for nearly 12 months, picking other people’s shopping to be delivered to their front doors. I only have to be in there with a list and a trolley – er, cart – for 5.2 seconds before someone stops dead in front of me and then the red mist descends. So I try to avoid them, because nuns aren’t supposed to go round killing people in supermarkets, especially if you’re only a trainee nun!
“Nuns aren’t supposed to go round killing people in supermarkets.” If that’s not the first rule of nun training then I vote it should be!
I tend to try to over achieve the “I-am-single-come-hit-on-me-please-but-only-if-you-are-sexy-and-not-married” look while in the grocery store.
You should try the “I’m-married-and-just-ate-a-bean-and-cheese-burrito-so-it-would-probably-behoove-you-to-not-be-within-five-feet-of-me” glare. Guys eat it up like catnip for some reason. Because that’s what guys eat. Catnip.
I have so much to learn.