Uplifting and comical…a look at my life, motherhood and the circus that goes with it

I want to talk about grocery shopping etiquette. There is none. Zero. There is no such thing as personal space, kindness or even manners that your grandmother taught you…especially when grocery shopping grandma is the rudest of them all. Just ask the lady who hip checked me into the assorted peppers section, where as a result I was getting beat with red peppers to the face. Thanks. Awesome.

 I’ve had it. I finally have all of my three children that are capable of going to the child care section, and I have to fight for my life while picking out ground meat. It’s not a competition, people, it’s the flippin grocery store. Grocery stores are not supposed to be the place where you are trying to look hot, it’s not a place to meet up with your friends right in the middle of isle 9, standing there like you don’t see me. If you can’t see me, I can promise you that the person you are talking to can because they are staring dead at me. But, “they can’t see me either”. So I will just stand there huffing like the Engine that Could, until I say excuse me. and you scowl like your husband just asked you to bend over. Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t’ mean to interfere with your weekly get together. I’m just trying to grocery shop in the grocery store.  Words of advice for a better experience:

  I don’t want to be stalked, I don’t to have a chicken race down the boxed dinners aisle. I don’t work there, so don’t get mad at me if I don’t know where chicken bouillons are. I don’t even know what the hell they are because I am not a chef either.

 Slow Down …. If you are going to cave and let your children ride in the car grocery carts even though you know they are harder to drive than a tractor tractor, then please put on your brakes well before you see me. There are no runaway ramps in any of the aisles, so veering off in a pile of sand is not an option. Stand strong. If you don’t, you will wreck into something or someone at least once, and it’s usually into me. Just sayin.

 Attention: Any woman over the age of 55, please stop interfering with my discipline of my children if they are misbehaving. I am not beating them down, I am not pulling down their pants with a noodle from the pasta shelves. I am telling them “NO,” so if they cry, it’s okay. I’m a capable parent. You missed the 15 minutes prior to when they were screaming about wanting four different boxes of cookies. I’m pretty sure they appreciate you sticking up for them and discrediting my opinion; however, once again, start telling your husband your opinions before you start telling me yours.

 Please stay after you take a number from the deli line, or give it someone else. The rest of us are left standing there (Bueller, bueller, bueller, bueller, bueller)..until our number comes up. It’s rude. Plus how can you want cheese and then not want cheese. Who doesn’t want cheese?

 Self scan does not mean stand there and laugh when I am bagging my own  items. Where is marketing? The signs should say “Self scan checkout, bagging not included.” Who wants to bag their items? Nobody.

 Avoiding the Nazi bagger while checking out. You will never be right. You will constantly try to load your items on the belt in a grouped way with alike items. You will always fail. The nazi bagger will always shut you down. The system will change as yours changes. Just avoid them before you feel put down. This is not a place to lose your self esteem.  It’s not worth it.

 

 Pedestrian walks are just that. Please consider them a valuable tool in your driving. Its’ not an optional device. It’s so you don’t kill us. Us cart pushers who are short, can’t always see over the stack of paper towel rolls and mound of food for our family. Objects may seem closer than they appear. Especially when one of my children let go of the cart and is now running towards you at remarkable speeds. The parking lot is not a place to bump your music and race the grocery carts. You will win, I promise.

 It’s really a lot simpler than it sounds maybe. Don’t hurt people, don’t talk to anyone and concentrate on your surroundings. You will be golden, and I, a much happier consumer. My anxiety attacks will cease and so will your insurance payments from running over that cute little lady who was hiding underneath the toilet paper.  We are all the same. We all need to eat to survive, so trying to torture us in the process is an oxymoron. As my husband would say. “Like Jumbo shrimp”.

 Be true, be you and be COURTEOUS!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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