Life in the Land of Dreamy Dreams

Yesterday I opened my cabinet and realized Old Mother Hubbard had nothing on me. I haven’t been shopping in weeks, and it was long past due. Alison was rounded up and she gleefully got in the car, ready to spend my money.

Halfway to the grocery store I told her that although I know we’re out of everything I wanted this to be quick. “You’re crazy!” she shouted, exasperated. “How can you know we need everything and STILL not want to go shopping?!”

She’s right, of course. I hate shopping, and unless it’s in a book store or Best Buy, I have no patience whatsoever. “Efficient, then,” I pleaded. “How about we shoot for efficient?”

Immediately upon arrival, the tug of war began. The “I wants” versus “You can haves.” It is a long, drawn out, bloody battle, fought on an aisle by aisle, shelf by shelf basis.

As we were hauling our loaded cart out to the car, Alison snickered and said in an I-have-vanquished-the-enemy tone, “You just gave up around aisle 5, mom.”

And it’s true. I traded arguing over individual items for just getting it over with. I became totally uninterested in debating the virtues of organics, calorie counts, brand loyalty. She’d hold up an item, starting a speech about why she needed the thing, why she needed it, how good it was for her… I would just wave a defeated hand at the cart, mumbling, “whatever, let’s just get out of here,” and staggered along with the cart.

Now there’s a full freezer, and empty wallet, and a totally drained mom.

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