Why we hate the weekly food shop
Himself is whingeing that there’s nothing in the cupboards and the kids have started going on about how so-and-so’s mammy never runs out of shampoo in their house. It has to be done but here’s a checklist of reasons why we dread the weekly shop
The false starts. The tyres are nearly burned off the car with all those twists and turns as you realise you’ve forgotten your glasses, then the list, then your wallet. Oh joy.
Trying to find a parking space is a mission in itself. There’s always that one driver who nips into the space you were CLEARLY about to take.
The people harrumphing behind you as the queue for the trolleys grows. Where the heck is that euro?
You’ve brought the kid. Why? In the week since your last shop you forgot about the sweet demanding monsters your angels morph into for the duration of the trip.
The elevator chats with that woman you’ve been bumping into every week for the last three years. What’s her name again? Oh god it’s too late to ask now. This is very awkward.
The divils behind product placement are at it again. You’re barely in the door, you definitely don’t need a cactus or a rake but that is such a bargain price…
Walking past the greeting cards stand just reminds you of all the thank you cards you meant to send and never got around to. Greeting card shame.
The fashion stakes. Since when did grocery shopping mean a full face of make-up and the latest fit-flop was required? Slightly regretting your choice of jeans with the paint splashes now.
Your handbag seems to have swallowed your glasses, so ensues the usual squinting at labels while other shoppers give a smug smile at your plight. They’re definitely wearing contacts.
That one baby who ROARS for the duration of his time there. We’ve all been there. We completely understand there’s nothing that Mum can do, bless her. But. It. Still. Hurts. Our. Ears.
The listless sales assistant that looks thoroughly bewildered when you ask him where the eggs are. Whatever happened to good old fashioned customer service?
Wonky trolleys. Your entire shop is spent drifting to the right.
Public displays of affection. You have no problem with showing affection but is the vegetable aisle really the time or place?
Being the person whose stuff keeps sliding off the trolley while others walk past with their neat little selection of goods. Clearly they do not have a family of wolves to feed.
Trying to keep track of the kids. Your nerves are shot, then you spot them, oh no they’re gone again.
Smash. You just dropped the mayonnaise you weren’t going to buy anyway. Oh great.
Having to buy the plastic bags because you forgot to bring them from home. Distressing to pay for these flimsy bags you know you will never use again.
Frantically trying to pack the frozen with the frozen and the veg with veg while the young thing on the till flings everything in haphazardly.
To load the food first or the kids first? Load the kids first and the trolley rolls off. Load the food first and where are those kids?
Finally it’s over. In the car, kids buckled up and everyone’s happy time to go home. Oh. God. Forgot. Washing-up liquid.
