My loving and dear husband went to Publix for me yesterday I think only for the reason that if there was food in the house, perhaps I would prepare it for him. My handwriting is clear, but sometimes my abbreviations are not. So when I put “mozz” on a shopping list what I mean is “shredded mozzarella,” not “skip this item on the shopping list and we will make baked ziti without cheese.”
So I am preparing to do…something…I can’t remember. I was looking in the refrigerator and I was like “I don’t think we have that cheese!” yeah, we didn’t.
Anyway, I end up at fucking Walmart on Easter Sunday. I knew they wouldn’t be closed because they’re soulless. Or maybe not, maybe they want to make sure you can get your plastic crucifix on Easter Sunday (made in China).
As I break into a slight perspiration fit on the half mile walk into the building from “priority parking,” I am faced with the fact that I really only need a couple things, but I have to take a whole cart in order to get them. I know why this is, but it still makes me mangry (not quite mad, not quite angry).
I then begin to compile a list of things that look good in the store, that would not work in real life in my house.
- An entire vat of potato salad-like substance
- A two gallon drum of mayonnaise
- Hot dogs in any quantity
- Anything that says “party size”*
- Gatorade powder
- More than 1 bottle of juice (includes orange)
- A carton of 18 eggs
- Any quantity of ladies shave gel
- More than one bag of pre-made cookies**
- A gallon and a half of ice cream***
*We know how to party, ok, but I don’t need that much saturated fat in my life. What is interesting is that “fun size” is wee, but party size is enormous. What is “sad size” or like “funeral size?”
**What is curious about this is that there are only 4 varieties of cut and bake cookies at Walmart, but an entire aisle dedicated to their pre-made counterparts
***I don’t even know how this would fit in my freezer (with the other 5 cartons of half-eaten ice cream that already exist in there)