I love grocery shopping. It’s my happy place. I like planning the meals and making the list and then just wandering down the aisles putting things in my cart. I like listening to the music and muttering to myself over which avocado is the ripest.
I even liked grocery shopping with the kids, for a while. Until we reached one of those Milestones Nobody Talks About: when they were old enough that nobody wanted to ride in the cart anymore and they spent the entire time running around like feral animals and touching all the things. Or, this.
So let me qualify that statement: I love grocery shopping alone.
I’ve spent way too much time this quarantine staring longingly at grocery stores when I drive past, or dreaming of the day when I can take my reusable bags inside and wander the aisles again.
It’s funny how things change, because apparently there was a time in my life when I did not enjoy grocery shopping. In fact, I believe I said that I would rather clean the toilet than go grocery shopping.
Let me tell you, that is NOT TRUE ANYMORE. Especially when you are the parent to two little boys with poor aim.
Some things don’t change, though. I still dislike scrubbing the toilet, just perhaps more than I did before. And I still dislike putting away laundry.
And guess what else doesn’t change? MY HUSBAND’S SOCKS.
Let’s recap that old blog post, shall we?
there are so many of them and they are all white tube socks but some of them have gray letters on them and some of them have a blue Nike swoosh on them and some of them have a black Nike swoosh and HEAVEN FORBID I pair a blue swoosh with a black swoosh.
Swap “white” for “black” and “Nike swoosh” for “Under Armor stripes” and there you have it, folks.
Some things change but some things, they just stay the same. If anyone ever hosts a sock-matching competition, let me know. I will win. I’ve had lots of practice.
