Friday, November 4, 2011

Let Me Tell You A Tale

Let me tell you a tale of market basket.  Okay, I know it seems like we have been down this road before.  But not unlike many roads around here, this one has had some construction and the route has been altered. 
We all know of my fondness for market basket, and more importantly my fondness for grocery shopping in general.  Some days I swear it is the bain of my existence.  But we must eat so I soldier on.  We were low on just about everything so I could put off the inevitable no longer.  I asked my adorable husband for an hour so I could go to my torture chamber without my adorable child.  Unfortunately the adorable husband had a prior commitment and could not afford me the hour I requested.  I pack up the adorable child and head out to conquer market basket.
The trip started off not too bad.  There was a stray cart abandoned near my car so after I parked I gathered that cart, stuck my cart cover on it, unloaded the child and off we go.  I am one aisle into the store when I realize that the cart has a hinky wheel.  Decision I back track and switch cart or keep on keeping on.  I was not in the mood to fight the incoming stream of shoppers so I made the decision to keep going.  What the heck, at least I would get an upper body workout while I was there.  Jeff and I proceeded on to the deli and seafood counter.  Usually a cluster f*@#k but today not too bad.  I picked number 68 and they were on number 64.  I skipped to the seafood counter while I waited for my number to be called.  Of course I asked for my fish order just as the deli guy is shouting 68.  I am so good at multitasking that I was able to tell fish lady what I wanted then deli guy with little confusion.  That is until fish lady tries to give me .75 of a pound of fish when I asked for a pound.  I said "Its ok if its over".  So fish lady gives me 1.30 pounds of fish.  No big deal, haddock really does cook down anyway.  And if we are going to eat a large portion of anything I would prefer it to be a healthy food like a delightful flaky white fish.
We leave this section of the store and I wrestle my way through the rest of the store.  I really should have switched this damn cart!  Jeff has been his usual self.  Shouting "HI" to anyone within his view and the telling them he was "shopping".  This approach is met with mixed reviews.  Most people if of the elderly variety love talking to him.  Now we approach the dreaded check out lines.  They are dreaded for two reasons.  One is all of those stupid basket of crap they have as you enter the line.  Of course all of them are placed at the perfect height for a toddler sitting in the shopping cart.  So after I get hit in the head by a couple bottles of parsley I manage to get near the conveyor belt and start loading the groceries.  This is when my adorable child morphs into a frickin octopus.  I swear he grew an additional 6 arms.  Now that we are actually in the line he is at the perfect height for all of that candy.  I am trying to unload the groceries as fast as is humanly possible  and keep his hands in the cart.  Needless to say he grabbed the lip of the box of m&ms and pulled.  Ah, the joys of shopping.
We manage to make it outside with neither of us bleeding.  Once we get home he has to help me unload the groceries.  Its actually kind of cute because he tells me what every item is that he takes out of the bag.  And I don't have to bend over and empty them myself.  Okay, all the groceries are unpacked and we survived to tell another tale of market basket.
Let's skip ahead to 4:30.  Its time to start dinner prep.  I take the fish out of the fridge and open the package.  Holy crap!  Did fish lady sneak a little fish stink in there when I wasn't looking?  No doubt this fish has to be bad.  WTF!!!!  $7 worth of fish and I have to chuck it out.  Not to mention I am chucking out my whole dinner plans now.  Everything else has been put in the freezer for a later use.  Now I got food poisoning once when I was pregnant and I wasn't going down that road again.  As pissed off as I was I wasn't going to take any chances.  This is not the first time I have bought fish, go to cook it and find it to be bad.  I mean what do I have to do, ask to smell the fish at the counter before I buy it?  Don't get me wrong.  I so would.  I hate wasting money on food.
So now that I am digesting the pizza my adorable husband went out to get us, I managed to sneak in to the home office and type out this blog.  I hope you all enjoy the telling of the tale of market basket.  Like going there isn't bad enough, but to buy rotten food?  That's just the cherry on top of the sundae.  Til next time........

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