Tammie Thursday: Comparison shopping with my husband…

2011 August 4
by mockers

I almost had a full blown anxiety attack yesterday.

I made the mistake of going to the grocery store with my husband.He makes those nutty extreme couponers look like they’re talking a quick trip to the store.
He is a “comparison shopper”.
He believes that he saves A LOT of money by comparing items before purchasing them.

I shall share with you the special time we spent together,”COMPARISON SHOPPING”….

We enter the store. He peruses the fresh veggies, I linger only long enough to check out the cucumbers and squash,then I make my way through the fruit. I take a reasonable look at it all and pick out a few juicy pieces. Then I begin to walk toward the bread.

But where is my hubby? He hasn’t made it out of the vegetables yet! He’s still looking at mushrooms.
This means at least ten more minutes in the produce section.

I say screw it and go over to check out the magazines.
After looking over ALL of the magazines,(do you know that Angela Jolie has a love child with Bigfoot?),I make my way back to the produce section. Approximately forty minutes has passed and I’m relieved to find he’s not there. I move on to the bread section. He’s not there either.
Feeling rather giddy at the prospect of getting out of the store in under two hours, I rush toward the first isle and stop dead in my tracks.
He is looking at canned vegetables.
I walk over and ask him what he’s looking for.
He tells me he’s not sure, he’s just looking.
So we stand there, as he looks.
And stand there…
And stand there….
Finally, I dance to the Muzak that’s playing for our shopping pleasure.
Some old lady with a goats head walks by and snorts disapprovingly. It is Tuesday..Elderly Hell Day! Isn’t that freakin fantastic!
I keep dancing, hubby keeps looking at veggies.
After what seems like forever,I feel like I’ve just had a total workout.I leave and walk toward the Deli. I am in luck. Some of the people who work there are taking their lunch and I sit with them.
They share pizza with me.
I tell them my story of woe. I explain the life sucking coma it puts me in when I have to stand still for twenty minutes looking at cans of vegetables.
They nod their heads in sympathy.
They tell me about the guy who comes into the store who has multiple personalities. They have met all three of them and say that he..er…they are all very nice.
I seriously think I know this guy…these guys?
Anyway, I finally get up to go seek out my man.
He’s walking down the condiment and salad dressing isle.
Thank god!!!
I decide to join him again and we enter the cracker and cookie isle.
I pick up a package of the kids favorite cookies. He grabs them and puts them back.
“Let’s pick out some healthy cookies.”
Is there such a thing as healthy cookies?
I stand and watch as it takes him f-o-r-e-v-e-r to pick out a package of cookies.
He moves slowly down the isle.
He stands in front of the crackers and looks….AT EVERY SINGLE FREAKING PACKAGE!!! Who does that? Who reads the information on EVERY SINGLE PACKAGE IN THE AISLE???
I stand and wait…humming to myself…rocking back and forth. I feel like my brain is growing too big for my head and it’s starting to leak out. I cover my ears with my hands and moan…a low throaty moan…still rocking back and forth.
The goat lady comes by and snorts at me…
I just can’t stand it….10 minutes…15 minutes…20MINUTES!!!

I finally run to the bathroom…panting…sweating...
I splash cold water on my face and emerge to the concerned faces of the people who work there.
They sit me down and give me candy.
I love them…

After I regain my composure, I go in search of my man.
He’s comparing square footage to cost for all the toilet paper.
I run, screaming and pulling my hair!
We’re not even half way through the store yet!

I make my way to the pet food isle. I find myself singing the theme song from the Flintstones and arranging the cans of cat food so they all are facing in the same direction.
I become concerned that I might have forgotten to take my Zoloft.
I spot my husband skipping the pet food isle and heading straight for the trash bags and laundry detergent.
The room starts to spin and a bag boy catches me right before I hit the floor.

When I come to, I smell fried chicken and bleach and I know I’m back at the deli.
They all look at me with concern. Should they page my husband, they ask?
“NO!!!!” I yell! “It will just take him longer to get through the last section of the store!”
“Could you just block off the freezer section instead?”, I ask in desperation. “You could tell him there’s a Freon leak or something.”
They quietly explain that they’d love to help me out but they can’t do that. It’s Elderly Hell day and the old ladies will riot if they can’t get to their cool whip.

Reluctantly, I go look for my husband.
He’s managed to make it to the chip isle.
He throws a bag of yucky chips I don’t like into the cart.
Knowing that I will hate myself for opening my mouth I say, “I think we should get some healthy chips. We did buy healthy cookies, remember?”
He looks at me with slitted eyes and puts the chips back.
“You pick out the chips then.”
He rolls the cart away, heading toward the final isle in the store.

I blink in amazement.
I’m not sure what happened but I’m drunk with happiness. I just managed to cut half and hour off our trip.
The old lady with the goats head walks by and snorts at me.
I snort back.
I’m feeling PRETTY proud of myself.

Walking through the dairy section is relatively painless, mainly because there’s not as much to look at.
Then as we make our way past the deli toward the cash registers, the deli people fake a grease fire and say they deli is off limits.

God they love me…

Finally, after close to three and a half hours, we leave. We bought a few pieces of fruit, mushrooms, crackers, fig newtons, Sun Chips, a can of greens, toilet paper and coffee creamer.

I am at my wits end…

My hubby is oblivious to my distress.

As the groceries are rung up, my husband is very happy with the low total of our bill.

“Gee honey, we need to go to the grocery store together more often.”
“We don’t spend as much on groceries when I’m with you.”
“Next time though, I promise not to hurry through the store like I did today.”

Just kill me now.

One Response leave one →
  1. 2011 August 4
    Tiff permalink

    freaking classic!

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