Get Thee To A Grocery Store

On the last episode of Tracy Takes The Cake, my dear husband delighted in telling everyone that he was off to get "Food For The Family".   Ah yes...and what did they come home with?  Big Fat Nothing, that's what.  Yessir, they sashayed out of the northern lakes with nothing but a stinky bootful of floodwater.  (The boy fell through the ice near the shoreline...peeeyewww).  Anyone have a caseload of Febreeze?
Food for the Family indeed...wanna know who really gets Food for the Family??? ME!! That's who! I'm in the bloody grocery store so often, people assume I am employed there. (What they don't realize is that I wouldn't be caught dead in those uniforms) Still, they eye me suspiciously, thinking I want to sign them up for a store credit card.  Regularly, I am stopped in the middle of the store;  "Excuse me, ma'am, can you tell me where the ..." "Aisle Four! Next to the Cheez Whiz!"  Even the unfriendly meat guy with the unfortunate shower cap is beginning to warm up to me when I inform him that the bulk wiener bin is empty. 
Really, I don't mind. I mean, I'm in there anyway.  I feel I am most helpful, but management still gets so frowny and cranky when I grab the intercom phone and announce, "All Available Cashiers to the Front Checkouts!" or "Wet clean up in the Baby Aisle. Stat!"  I'm really quite good at it; I know what button to press...but there they are with all their Rule Following.  "Um, Mrs. Lalonde, we know you were 'raised in retail' and everything but please, we've talked about this." Pfft...amateurs. I spend enough money there, I feel I should be part of the decision making process!
So, how is it that I can buy a truckload of groceries at the beginning of the week, and in a few days I'll open the fridge and we're down to half a jar of olives, acontainer of milk (empty) and some leftovers that could really be sent in for carbon dating?  I certainly can't seem to keep fruit in the house.  I buy enough fruit to make stunning displays even Carmen Miranda would be envious of.  I'll reach into the fruit bowl the next day only to find four withered grapes and a leathery orange. Where do they put it?? When did my family become eating machines?
These are the same children who, back in the day, refused to unclamp their mouths for anything that didn't resemble a gummy bear or a Cheerio. Remember? Songs were sung, vegetables were personified, pieces of cheese were cut into star shapes, the spoon was airplaned, but they would not open up, no sir.  When I finally did get them to eat, they furthered their point by gagging on the mashed potatoes....not another bite, Mother, I'm warning you... Ah, those were the days...the low grocery bill days.
Don't tell my husband, but this weekend, I'm going to suggest we take a trip to get Food For The Family. We'll point the car north.  He'll be so excited...until we get to Costco.